


Familiar

by corvusdraconis, Dragon_and_the_Rose



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: F/M, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-01
Updated: 2020-05-01
Packaged: 2021-03-01 19:33:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 28,081
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23942392
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/corvusdraconis/pseuds/corvusdraconis, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dragon_and_the_Rose/pseuds/Dragon_and_the_Rose
Summary: SSHG, AU: He's been with her all her life through the best and worst times, only she never knew it.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 51
Kudos: 292





	Familiar

**Summary:** SSHG, AU: He's been with her all her life through the best and worst times, only she never knew it.

 **Beta Love:** None, insomnia _sucks_. Oops, no, Dragon and the Rose found me again… how does she _do_ that?!

 **Warnings:** Descriptive violence of the physical and magical nature because Death Eaters are exceedingly horrible excuses for human beings.

* * *

**Familiar**

_A Corvus Draconis Short Story_

_I love that quiet time when nobody's up and the animals are all_

_happy to see me._

**Olivia Newton-John**

* * *

She'd found him half trampled to death by a stampede of terrified girls at her dressage lessons, and perhaps her friends might have called her strange if she'd actually had any.

Hermione Granger, however, had no friends but books and animals and her parents were often far too busy to question what she brought home and nurtured. She already had a rampaging mob of friendly squirrels she had nursed back to health, baby birds that were no longer babies, hedgehogs that kept her parents' garden free of pests, cats would put aside all personal grievances against each other and fight for her lap space instead, and every horse at the stables wanted to follow her around the paddocks whenever she was there even to the point of following her as she rode ol' Buckeye Sidesteps on Tuesday around the grounds.

Humans, however—

Well, she couldn't really miss what she'd never known, now could she?.

Her parents believed she was going to grow up to become a veterinarian. She was practically apprenticed to Doctor Fletcher in the neighbourhood and no one there doubted that she didn't practically ooze a Dr Dolittle in the making with her keen sense of empathy with all sorts of animals.

They did wonder about _him_ though— perhaps the "biggest bloody spider" anyone had ever seen.

Hermione Granger had to brush her own hair after Mrs Dr Granger found four pairs of eyes staring up at her from her daughter's shoulder one morning before school. Maybe, it would have bothered Hermione, if said arachnid didn't gently take her massive cluster of curls and tame them down with a silken hair tie. She thought it was _great_.

Mr Dr Granger tucked his daughter in each night despite being busy every part of the day, and he hardly even noticed the spider along with the practical menagerie of animals that tucked themselves all around her each night, and that didn't even include the parliament of owls that liked to sit on the windowsill and watch over her as she slept.

Every morning, her bed was neatly made, as usual, and her teeth brushed fastidiously. Everyone one of her animal mates had sparkling dental hygiene… provided they had teeth.

No, Hermione Granger wasn't lonely for company, but she did have to limit which animals could follow her into the library lest the librarians have an aneurysm over it, much to the animals' sulky displeasure.

So, when Hermione Granger received a visitor before her eleventh birthday, Drs Granger could barely fathom that their child was to be a witch. Veterinarian, sure, but a witch? Hardly a typical sort of career choice for the Granger family, whose lines of doctors, dentists, and neurosurgeons went way back. How exactly did one put "witch" on a business card?

Still, when the Grangers took Hermione to Diagon Alley for the first time, they couldn't help but feel awed by the world they had never known about, and after the entire Magical Menagerie tried to follow her home, they felt that some things didn't change regardless of her daughter's future career.

A flighty "wizard" from the Ministry had come to "detail her familiars" and ended up suffering from the strain of trying to catalogue Hermione's vast list of companions that seemed to come and go depending on where she was— all except _him_.

No, he had stayed with her since she had saved him.

The wizard had given the spider a very wary eye, pointing his wand at the arachnid as he gave it look over, very much discomfited by the young witch taking the large spider in her arms and cuddling him like a plush toy.

The spider's four sets of eyes seemed to glower into the wizard, venom dripping from his fangs, and the wizard couldn't help but notice the distinctive skull shape on the spider's abdomen— only barely seen under the coat of soft, silken hair.

When the Department of Control and Regulation of Magical Creatures realised that they had run out of parchment (and sanity) trying to detail every creature that seemed to have taken a shine to her, they gave her perhaps the first and only blanket familiar registration which may or may not have had to do with about twenty-some brassed off creatures going for the registration clerks face.

Maybe.

Possibly that.

* * *

The next hurdle was the Sorting, and after being ridiculed and poked at for being a freak by just about everyone "in the waiting," Hermione didn't want to be Sorted, and she didn't want to be with those awful loud-mouth jerks that only wanted to be in "Gryffindor" especially. Neville was convinced she had stolen his toad on purpose when really all she had been doing was cleaning the poor thing off after he'd fallen in some lint. Some mop-haired kid who couldn't even fix his own glasses was too busy being chums with some red-headed loud-mouth trying to turn his rat yellow—

The Ravenclaws were so busy comparing their wits that they couldn't understand why _she_ was anything special, and the Hufflepuffs thought she was scary just because her hair seemed to move on its own.

She could hear their whispering at the Head Table. The one they called Dumbledore wanted her to be in Gryffindor, and she didn't want to be in Gryffindor at all. Not if it meant being in the same place as, as— them!

They were _mean_ to her.

Worse, they made fun of all her animals. Archon, her spider friend, had run away— and she missed him fiercely.

The Sorting Hat seemed awfully conflicted about what to do with her.

After about an hour of being stared at by everyone as the Hat continuously mumbled to itself, Hermione just wanted to go home and study to become a veterinarian. All of her fascination and love for her arrival at Hogwarts having faded into a feeling of absolute mortification.

"Enough, I will take her as my apprentice," the pale wizard with black hair and seemingly even blacker robes said with a brief roll of his impossibly dark eyes. "I tire of all your petty bickering and juvenile betting as though Miss Granger was but some common bit of chattel."

Hermione didn't miss how horrified everyone looked about that statement at the Head Table.

"But Severus—"

"What in Merlin's name—"

"Don't you think—"

A massive wall of black stood in front of her, awkwardly stooping on one knee in front of her. "Now, Miss Granger," he said surprisingly softly. "I am the Head of Slytherin House, but I am also a Potions master. I would take you on as my apprentice, and you can show these narrow-minded fools that you do not need their approval or their blessing to become a force to be reckoned with. You do not need to conform to fit their narrow-minded standards to be great. Filed away as a bookworm to be acknowledged as intelligent. Hone your ambition and cunning with _me_ , Miss Granger, and I will gladly be the only one you will ever need to prove yourself to."

He held out his hand to the wide-eyed young witch.

"Severus, no—" Dumbledore protested.

His black eyes reminded her strongly of Archon, and she willingly stepped forward to place her hand in his.

His warm fingers closed around her small hand, and the Sorting Hat blew off her head as a rush of heated magic surged through them both, their magics merging together like two tides. Dark green tendrils of magic emerged from Snape's arm and burrowed into hers causing him to hiss and her to gasp. His eyes seemed to glow as flecks of amber settled within even as hers darkened with a whirlpool of blackness. She was wrapped up in his arms as the magic poured into her.

"I've got you," he whispered into her wild curls. "Apprentice."

"Master," she cried in wonder, tears streaming down her face.

He hissed as his arms tightened around her, a black goo dripping from his left arm. It pooled on the stone floor and then fizzled out. She wrapped her small arms around his waist, taking shelter in his woolen robes and warm embrace. The magic swirled around them, purging, merging, driving away any and all impurities that defied their sacred bond. Her plain black student robes, the base of all school uniforms, transformed into the dark wool of her master's preference. Dark green ink seemed to flow up their joined arms forming into an intricate mural of animals. A glimmering circlet of magic swirled around her forehead like a halo even as an even more complex one wove itself around his head. Phantom wings sprouted from their backs as magic swirled and bound, strengthening and tightening.

Dumbledore was stumbling toward them— perhaps to stop the bind or even to make sure they weren't being hurt, but the moment he reached out toward the pair, those phantom wings became real, and Snape's growl seemed downright primordial—from a place deep in prehistory when magic was its own master and humans were but specs on the journey.

_Let no one sunder_

_What we have bound_

_We have judged_

_And found them sound_

_Magick's bond_

_And Magick's price_

_These two together_

_In sacrifice._

_Let none tear asunder_

_What we have fused_

_For magick shall punish_

_If they are abused._

_This is our judgement._

_This is our will._

_Do not test us,_

_Lest blood be spilled._

Albus Dumbledore was suddenly flat on his arse on the dias as a red-headed boy waiting to be sorted blurted, "What the bloody hell was _**that?!"**_

* * *

"Hey, Granger," the blond-haired boy said, shuffling on the bench to get a bit closer to her.

Archon spider-hissed, his forelegs spread menacingly from her shoulder.

The boy gulped and spread his fingers in a non-threatening gesture. "Hey, I mean no harm, I swear."

Archon snuggled up against Hermione's shoulder as she went over her book assignments, but when Hermione started to get _too_ into her books, he jumped down between the pages and nipped her fingers, driving her out of the book and towards the practice cauldron.

"Okay, okay, I get the message!" Hermione laughed, scooping up the frustrated arachnid. "No more books for now."

She got out her brewing kit and started working on a potion.

"What did you want, Malfoy?"

Draco rubbed his hair. "Draco, please?"

Hermione narrowed her eyes at him, their amber colour suddenly shifting closer to black than honey brown.

"Hermione."

Hermione sighed. "Draco."

"What did my Uncle Severus want you to work on?"

"A little light reading before more potionwork," she said, gesturing to the pile of books that stacked over her head.

"That's _light_ reading?"

Hermione frowned. "Of course."

"At least you can read," Draco said, then with a snort, "unlike Vince and Greg.

Hermione shrugged. "Not sure how you can go to school and not figure that out," she said. "I've been reading ever since I was two. Mum said I knew what a mandibular canal was before bruxism."

Draco puckered his lips, obviously quite unsure what either of those things were.

Hermione was busily brewing her potion, kept on focus by an attentive spider that pounced on her hand when she went for the wrong ingredient and then seemed to wait for her to figure out why.

Hermione seemed to have her epiphany, then reached for the correct ingredient, and continued her brewing.

_**Crrrrk!** _

The raven on her shoulder added his own two knuts, peering over her to see into the cauldron.

Hermione nodded as if she understood something and stirred anti-clockwise. The potion turned from a sour green to a bright gold. "Brilliant, thanks, Ciaran."

" _ **Crrrrk!"**_ the raven agreed, proudly preening his chest feathers.

The spider shot a strand of silk out at the raven, wrapping his beak, and the spider and raven had a small row until Archon drove Ciaran off.

"Aw, you didn't have to do that," Hermione said, cuddling the spider in her arms as she watched the cauldron. "He was just trying to help."

The spider seemed unamused, clacking his fangs together.

"Merlin, it's like having Uncle Severus here in eight-legged miniature," Draco boggled.

The spider raised his forelegs at him, fangs bared in unmistakable threat.

Draco cringed backwards. "Hey, it's not necessarily a _**bad**_ thing!"

Hermione peered at the cauldron and seemed to be debating on what to put in next. She took one leaf and stared at it, then another. Finally she broke off a piece of each leaf and licked each one. Grimacing at leaf number two, she put in leaf number one, stirred once, and watched the cauldron turn a bright, vivid blue.

The spider bounced up and down, seemingly in approval, and Hermione kissed him on the head above his eyes. "You're the _best_ , Archon."

"You do realise that's like the most venomous spider on the planet, right?"

Hermione shrugged. "I tried looking him up in the books once, but nothing looked exactly like him."

She decanted the potion in a flask and set it beside. "I really hope Master likes it," she said. "We were supposed to go flying tonight."

Archon ran in circles and then tore off into the darkness.

"Aww," Hermione said, looking rather disheartened. "He always runs away when I mention flying."

"Spiders weren't exactly made for flying," Draco pointed out.

Hermione shrugged. "It's strange when he isn't around."

Draco thumbed through one of the books near Hermione. "Advanced Properties of Medicinal Herbs?"

Hermione cleaned up her brewing project and shrank her books down to fit into her bag. They marched in, all in alphabetical order.

"Wicked! Did Uncle Severus teach you that?"

Hermione nodded.

"Teach me, will you? Please!" Draco pleaded.

Hermione sighed heavily.

"Please!" Draco whinged. "I'll give you some of my mum's best butter shortbreads." Draco looked shifty. "I hid them from Pansy."

Hermione smiled. "Deal."

* * *

Hermione ran into the girl's lavatory, sniffling as she tried to stifle her tears. Why did people have to be so mean? Calling her a mini-dungeon bat. Making fun of how she enunciated her spells. Who needed or wanted friends when they were so horrible to each other?

She sniffled again, wiping away her tears just as the doorway smashed in and the nearby sink went flying into the far wall.

Hermione screamed as a giant troll came barging in, a club made of some poor uprooted tree in his thick hands. It bashed the wall of toilets, sending doors flying off the hinges. He sniffed, wiping his hand on his nose and flicking snot on the wall. The stench of him practically made her hurl in between screams.

She was going to die.

She was so going to _die_.

She was going to—

_**RRWWAOORROOFF!** _

_**WOOOF!** _

_**RAWRRFFFF!** _

The already abused doorway blew to pieces as a three-headed dog ploughed in, landed on the troll, and began a very effective tear asunder sequence that started with three sets of very sharp teeth and ended with four sets of clawed paws.

_**THUMP!** _

A drooled on, semi-ravaged Professor Quirrell landed slimily against the wall next to Hermione, and she screamed again, utterly terrified as the man had two faces— one on each side of his head.

The troll went down in a hard thump to floor tile, club clattering to the mirror and earning him seven years of increased bad luck.

_**Snuffle.** _

_**Snuffle.** _

_**Lick.** _

Hermione whimpered as the cerberus nuzzled her, tail wagging. She slowly touched the great dog's middle head and giggle-cringed as he happily licked her palm.

"I'm okay, thanks," she said.

A pile of frantic professors stumbled into the lavatory just at that moment, and the Cerberus turned, growling and snarling.

The professors looked in horror from the wall to the sinks to the troll flat on his face bleeding from every conceivable place to the double-faced Quirrell.

Somehow the three-headed dog and the young witch seemed the least of their concerns.

As the black-clad Professor Snape staggered in, his leg bleeding from some unidentified wound, Hermione ran towards him, clinging to him like he was the only port in the storm.

The Cerberus eyed Snape and whined, sitting down, and looked positively ashamed.

"Bad dog," Snape said sternly as he comforted his traumatised apprentice.

" _Good_ dog," Minerva said as she eyed the troll.

 _Nnnnnggngggfff,_ came Quirrell's pained wheeze as the Cerberus unceremoniously sat down on him.

* * *

_**Dark Lord Possesses Hogwarts Teacher!** _

_Quirinius Quirrell, professor of Defence Against the Dark Arts at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry, was found possessed by He Who Shall Not Be Named last week when a troll was set loose on the Hogwarts grounds._

_The troll attacked a young witch in a girl's lavatory but was rescued by the school's resident three-headed dog, but during the scuffle, Mr Quirrell was found with multiple dog bites on his person and a far more concerning second face on the back of his head._

_Mr Quirrell is now being held in stasis at the Ministry under twenty-four hour Auror guard as it is unclear as to whether being put in Azkaban might be less secure due to the Dementor presence— creatures that HWSNBN had always claimed were "on his side."_

_Rumour has it that the Minister himself witnessed the possessed Mr Quirrell and promptly lost the battle with his stomach, reportedly hurling all over his Italian dragonhide shoes._

* * *

"Why are we moving up here, Master?" Hermione asked as she carried her trunk with her.

"Albus believes he needs the three-headed menace here to guard this room, but since the canine refuses to leave your side, that means we have to be up here too." Severus sniffed, rolling his eyes. "At least the view is much better," he added, looking out the nearby window. The other, larger window seemed to have a three-headed dog looking out of it, clogging up the window all too well.

The room had been completely overhauled since last Snape had seen it, the castle itself seeming to approve of the change of residence, even to the point of connecting it to the the Slytherin common room so Snape could keep an eye on his snakelings lest they think the move would make it much easier to get into mischief without getting caught.

Magic was indeed alive and well at Hogwarts.

And Crabbe and Goyle had already found out that Snape had radar when it came to putting them in line— multiple times.

Hermione stayed at Snape's side most hours of the day, only taking time to be in a few classes he felt were better taught by Minerva and Filius for their firm insistence on "foolish wand-waving." Later, he would teach her himself via his own methods, and Hermione never seemed to mind learning something twice over.

She especially loved performing magic without a wand, thinking it was absolutely brilliant, even if she _did_ accidentally turn a teacup into a tiger and a desk into a sea otter. Snape insisted she concentrate more and be distracted less, and sometimes Archon would drive away any and all of her other animal friends to keep her on task— proving that sometimes giant arachnids ruled the roost, no matter what others believed.

She accidentally turned Archon into a vulture, and the bird-arachnid gave her a steely glare that had her desperately trying to put him back to rights in her shame and guilt.

She looked forward to her flight lessons the most— sans the broom if you please, thank you very much.

As much as she tried to like flying on a broom, it just wasn't right to her.

Flying with her master, however, was fun. They would fly over the lake and the forest, wingtip to wingtip, trailing their wisps of magic behind them, practising being in complete coordination of movement and thought.

The bond between them seemed to grow ever closer, and the more they practised the less she needed words to know what he wanted, where he was going, or how he was feeling.

No matter how much she tried to sneak Archon off to fly with her, the arachnid seemed to have a sixth sense about being smuggled out to fly. He'd disappear in an instant, scurrying off into the dark not to be seen again until the wings were safely gone and away.

In the mornings, they would sun together on the ramparts, spreading their wings like vultures in the trees, letting the warmth and light heat them awake.

Slytherin seemed to be mollified by the changes in Snape and his apprentice, the blessings of magic being clearly imprinted upon them in an undeniable way. As if witnessing the formation of the bond hadn't been obvious enough—

Not even Hermione's supposed blood status could erase the fact that magic had basically said: "This is how it's going down, and if you try and fuck with it, I will _end_ you."

Who could argue with magic?

What were they without their magic?

Even the Dark Lord relied on magic to be superior, and what had that got him?

And if magic could favour a Muggleborn in such a way, then maybe, just maybe, they had to earn their way back into magic's favour instead of taking it for granted.

Draco seemed convinced that Hermione was the best chance at having a friend who wasn't a bloody idiot, and Severus tolerated the boy's presence around his apprentice as long as he kept his mouth from running away with his senses— something he knew his pureblood upbringing had made rather difficult from day one.

Yet, oddly enough, Draco was _not_ his father in all things, and for some reason yet unknown to Snape, the boy was going back to looking to him as his role model of choice— something he hadn't done since he was five and Lucius had tried to break his boy of his newfound habit of wearing "depressing black all the time."

Things were— different.

Albus seemed extremely irritated that his oath-bound geas on Snape had been driven asunder by Olde Magick, doubly so that Snape's teenage fuck-up and subsequent tattoo had been purged. Yet, Snape was not sure if he was irritated by magic's meddling or the fact he'd been outplayed. Perhaps, he thought, it was because magic hadn't benefitted him directly and had instead chosen Snape and his apprentice.

Whatever it was, Albus wasn't exactly on speaking terms with Severus about it, and Severus was taking his Oath to protect Hermione as his apprentice very, very seriously.

She was— special.

He would not have her thrust into a house simply for her usefulness and potential to help one Albus' favoured little Gryffindors— the one who was the spitting image of James Potter and yet had Lily's damning eyes.

And when Snape looked to see Hermione and Draco leaning up against the Cerberus' warm side as they studied together, he had to think that if someone like Draco could break free of a childhood's brainwashing that magic of purebloods was superior in all ways, then maybe there was some hope for the children of Slytherin.

If the likes of Crabbe and Goyle didn't cock things up—

* * *

The look on Lucius' face as his hand tentatively lay upon one of Hermione's silken wings was profound. Magical cilia seemed to ripple across them, wisps of undeniably powerful magic as they tickled Lucius' hand.

He had already touched Severus' wings, which Snape figured was more of a "Is that _really_ there?" confirmation than anything, but the touch on Hermione's wings was an entirely different revelation.

They were magic made form, both solid and magical, alive and construct—

They practically dripped with the excess of magic, as if magic itself had gathered itself upon her and then slid off due to the quantity.

"So, it's _true_ ," Lucius whispered in awe. "I didn't believe Draco when he told me— how could I?"

Severus tilted his head.

"The bond between master and apprentice is for life, Severus. We haven't seen such proof in centuries. People take the oaths but— they are often hollow. It is just words."

Lucius stroked Hermione's wings as if petting one of his peacocks.

"Is it true? The Dark Lord—?"

"His face was on the back of Quirinius Quirrell's head, yes," Severus answered grimly.

Lucius paled and his hand went to his arm instinctively, scratching at it.

"And the Cerberus?"

"Refuses to leave her side save when she flies. He has some limits, at least," Severus replied. "She has been working on training him to guard our quarters instead of following her everywhere and getting himself stuck in doorways."

"Did she at least give the beast a proper name?"

"Ezrah," Snape replied with a sniff. "For helpful and determined. _Not_ Fluffy, at the very least."

Lucius shuddered. "Hagrid's doing, I take it?"

"Hn," Severus said with a nod.

Lucius curled his lip with disgust but sighed. "He seems to be calm around the children?"

Severus smiled slightly. "Make no mistake. He _will_ tear you to pieces if he even thinks you mean her harm— and by proxy now, me as well. That took some convincing on her part, given our shared past. He has already inflicted Hagrid some rather nasty bites to his posterior to prove he has absolutely no desire to return to him."

Lucius sipped his tea, attempting to hide his amusement behind the teacup, but Severus was hardly fooled.

"Leave it!" Hermione said, and Lucius looked up to see Draco putting a very large biscuit on the middle head's nose.

"Leave it," Hermione said again.

Heads one and three looked absolutely tortured. The middle head was cross-eyed, his gaze fixed on the tasty treat.

"Okay, eat!"

_**THIP-CRUNCH!** _

The biscuit flew off his nose and into his open mouth.

"I have to wash up for bed," Hermione said to Draco. "Master?"

"Hn?"

"If Archon comes back while—"

"I will let him know his mistress is in the shower."

"Thank you, Master!" she smiled and rushed off to prepare for bed.

"Archon?" Lucius asked, eyebrow raising.

"Her highly venomous arachnid," Severus said, sipping his tea.

"She has a highly venomous arachnid familiar?"

"She sleeps with him. He even allows her to drool on him."

Lucius' eye twitched. "It had better not be a Hallows Spider," he said grimly. "You'd have alchemists beating down your doors for just a glimpse at it, and throwing piles of galleons at you for just a single drop of the venom."

"I'm hardly an expert on arachnids, Lucius."

"Perhaps I'll get a look at it."

"Doubtful, the creature can always sense eyes upon it. All four pairs of eyes help."

"Pity," Lucius said. "I would like to see one for myself if only to say I had."

"You can't have everything, Lucius."

"Oh, but I can try," Lucius said with a smile.

Later that night, when Hermione stirred restlessly in her sleep, one quite deadly arachnid crawled up her duvet and wedged itself under her arm.

Hermione hummed happily, snuggling into the spider's warm body. "Welcome back, Archon," she murmured, pressing her face into his silken fur.

She was asleep in seconds.

* * *

Hermione's first year passed without further incident, and Hermione was glad that the only thing she had to deal with had been the troll. That had been enough, thank you. The other students seemed even keener on ostracising her, but she was even less inclined to care. The Slytherin students at least treated her with respect even if it wasn't true kindness— something the other houses seemed less apt to do.

The first year was full of learning rituals until they became a habit, and she found comfort in those habits as much as she did in her master's almost constant presence. The infamy of the forbidden third floor corridor became all the more obvious when the Cerberus was sprawled out in the hallway as he waited for her to come home, and fewer and fewer students arrived in the infirmary with wounds they refused to admit where they'd gotten—

As if triple-headed maulings weren't bleeding obvious.

 _Literally_ bleeding.

The first potion Hermione came to know backwards and forwards was Dittany. The second was Skele-Gro.

Who knew that a "safe" magical school could be so dangerous?!

At least, Hermione figured, she _felt_ safe.

When she went home for the summer, she spent a good month or so learning to hide her wings from— well, everyone. It had been hard to do, but Severus had insisted it was for the best. He clarified to say that it wasn't that she wasn't normal but that most people don't respond well to things they don't have themselves, and wings were a good way to make people either super jealous or fearful.

Hermione reluctantly agreed and practised hard until she was able to hide them from sight without having to concentrate long on what her master called "selective disillusionment." Whatever it was, it worked quite well, and she still felt them on her back which was a source of great relief. What was even more fun was that she could make her hands disappear, or her head, or her entire body if she wanted.

That was _fun!_

Archon chittered at her when she made her head disappear, bonking his body against her invisible head until she made it come back.

She giggled and cuddled him. "I'm sorry, I bet that looked pretty awful."

The spider glared at her, but she snuggled him close and pressed her lips to his head.

"Thanks for being with me, Archon," she said with a grin.

Archon tapped his legs with seeming irritation, but he gave off an undeniable arachnid-purr that gave him away.

Archon, as usual, accompanied her everywhere, so it felt more natural to have him around when poor Ezrah was stuck back at Hogwarts minding the third floor.

Supposedly, Mr Hagrid was going to make sure he was fed and otherwise watched while they were forced to be away, but Hermione was a little suspicious of the half-giant. Fluffy didn't care for him, from what he told her. He smelled funny and gave him odd things to eat. She'd placated him, telling him she'd back when school resumed because the Headmaster didn't want her living the school in the summer, but he equally (for some reason) didn't want her living with her master either.

That made _no_ sense. She was living with him the rest of the year, so why did it matter?

She felt like there had been a battle of wills between the Headmaster and her master, and the elder wizard had wanted her master to do something, but he couldn't force him to, so he forced him to let her go home as some sort of— how did Severus put it? Oh, right. "Bloody immature power mongering."

But, Severus had given her a lesson plan, complete with coloured flags and his handwriting quilled over just about every page with detailed instructions of what she should be studying and practicing on. Personally, she loved the coloured flags and detailed notes. They made her feel like he was there, and part of her really missed him when he wasn't.

So, Archon accompanied her to dressage lessons, as usual, and he even tolerated the snuffling from so many horses that liked to follow her around the paddock. She volunteered at the veterinarian clinic, like always, and the staff there was happy to see her and asked her how she was liking that "private school abroad" her parents talked about.

Hermione assured them that school was wicked fun and challenging, and they smiled and nodded.

That was their Hermione, they said. Everything about school, Hermione liked.

They gave her a small stipend for helping with the animals despite the fact she was volunteering since she assisted with some of the more "moody" animals that didn't always respond well to being handled. As usual, Hermione could usually figure out what was troubling the animals and get them sorted. Dr Fletcher called her Miss Dolittle, and Hermione found it endearing.

Once she got home, she worked on her studies, often a little _too_ long into the night. Archon would hop into the middle of her books and drive her out, pretending to attack her face until she went off to get ready for bed. She protested that Severus would be angry that she didn't finish all her lessons, but the spider webbed her books shut and glowered at her until she went to bed.

"Okay, okay!"she placated the arachnid, shuffling off to shower and brush her teeth. By the time she came back to her bed, her father was waiting to tuck her in, and he even tucked Archon in with her.

"Now you take care of my little lady," he told the spider as he put Hermione's arm around him.

Archon snuggled into Hermione's body and chirred.

Dr Granger gave the spider a fond pat and covered them both with the duvet.

There was a rapping on the shutters, and Dr Granger opened them to see the familiar raven and his owl companions that had taken up residence on her windowsill.

Ciaran rawked and fluttered in, sticking his beak under the duvet edge and burrowing himself under it with just his tail feathers sticking out.

Dr Granger shook his head.

"Watch over my little lady," he told the birds and walked out, closing the door quietly behind him.

* * *

Albus Percival Wulfric Brian Dumbledore had a problem.

Well, he had multiple problems, and some of them had multiple heads.

One, he managed to tame with a little help from some music, but the fact remained that Severus had followed the very strict guidelines that insisted all teachers go home for the summer and _that_ left Albus with a problem.

He couldn't find Severus.

Anywhere.

Maybe he should have given permission for Miss Granger and Severus to stay over the summer as Snape had asked—

Hell, apprentices had _always_ stayed with their masters when there actually was a master and apprentice relationship. Just because they hadn't had one in decades didn't make the accommodations any different.

Albus had resisted, of course.

He needed Snape to be there to set his plans into motion.

He needed Harry Potter protected.

He had needed the Granger girl to be in Gryffindor.

She'd been the perfect social outcast who would have jumped at the chance of having friends, and she would have surely helped Harry.

So he had insisted Granger went back to her family, but with no real reason for Snape to be at the school with her gone, he had up and left for the summer holiday, leaving no word at all of where he'd be other than he would return for the autumn term.

And he couldn't force him—

The bonds of magic that had once made Snape bend to his will over his teenage promise of "anything" to help Lily Potter had been sundered. Utterly obliterated.

The Mark that had once emblazoned Snape's arm— the badge of the stupidity of his youth— had been replaced by Olde Magick's Weave. And that same Olde Magick had stolen his spy and his servant and protection for Potter in one fell swoop.

Worse, every time he had tried to read Severus or the Granger girl's thoughts, it gave him a fiercely intense headache. When he'd tried to temporarily block the bond and release the girl from Severus' care, his feet and legs had transformed into that of a goat's for an entire month.

In fact, Hogwarts Herself seemed to protest the absence of the young witch and her master, and had been seemingly punishing him by being excruciatingly slow to react to his will, doing what he asked but not quite what he wanted, and even allowing the owls to congregate inside his office instead of the owlery.

The Cerebus didn't trust him in the slightest, and only music allowed Hagrid to go in to feed the beast. He'd hoped the time away would allow Hagrid to take control of the animal again, but the three-headed dog wasn't having anything to do with it.

He was waiting for his beloved people to return home, and even the music wasn't holding him for long— only long enough to place food and water by him and get back out. If anyone tried to enter Snape's quarters or test his wards, the dog would wake and tear anything that didn't belong in "his space" to pieces. If there was anything added to the food, the blasted dog would simply let it sit there and rot, smelling up the entire floor and beyond.

The discovery of Tom's face on the back of Quirrell's head, while it should have at least tipped off the Ministry that Voldemort had indeed returned, didn't make Albus feel any better. It had just moved up the timeline on Tom's return and forced Albus to consider that whatever was allowing the wizard to return (even in such a grotesque way) was far more insidious than anyone had predicted.

But what was he going to do without Snape in position to be his agent within the Dark Lord's minions? To send him back to the Dark Lord without a Mark would get him killed, and he didn't have the same power over Snape he once had— something he had long relied on to hold Severus in check.

Whatever was he going to _do_ to bring Snape back to heel—

Albus startled as Fawkes threw a ripe fig at his head, seemingly glowering at him.

"Burning day, old friend?" Albus muttered.

The phoenix seemed to smoulder on his perch, unimpressed.

"You're always such a grump before your burn."

* * *

Hermione's summer trip with her parents took her to the seaside, and she built a somewhat inspired Hogwarts in the sand with her father. He'd never seen Hogwarts in person, and she wanted to show it to him, so she tried to replicate it as best she could.

Archon seemed to realise what she was up to, and he assisted her as well, much to Dr Granger's amusement in watching a spider of all things helping build a sandcastle with his daughter.

While it took hours and many applications of sun cream and prescribed timeouts under the shade, they finally finished, and Dr Granger proclaimed their project a success. Mrs Dr Granger lured them to join her for dinner on the beach blanket, and they watched the sunset over sandy Hogwarts together.

Hermione didn't really want to leave her creation to nature and the tide, knowing that by morning her hard work would be for nought, so she lingered on the beach while her parents picked up their bundled things from the sand to prepare to go home.

"You must be a Mudblood," a gravelly voice said as a booted foot went through Hermione's hard work.

Hermione looked on in horror at the unexpected attack, her face wrinkling in her surprise and pain.

"Why did you do that? I didn't do anything to you!"

"Because you _exist_ , girl," the man said with a sneer. "You exist, and you shouldn't. Hogwarts isn't made for Mudbloods like you. It's for the pure, and you are just a foul bit of scum on the Earth that needs to be put in her place."

"That's a _horrible_ reason!" Hermione protested.

Hermione was suddenly choking, the wizard's hand on her throat and squeezing. She kicked out with her feet, whimpering.

Her parents were running towards her, and the man pointed his wand at them, and they dropped into the beach, writhing and crying out in agony.

Hermione sobbed, crying for her mum and dad.

Suddenly, every gull on the beach simultaneously dive bombed the wizard's face, and Archon leapt on the wizard's forehead, legs spread and his fangs dripping with venom.

_Thhuuiink!_

Fangs sank deep into flesh, and Archon went sailing off into the surf as the man screamed and pummelled the spider off himself and cast a spell that propelled the arachnid far away.

" _ **Archon!"**_ Hermione cried, despair in every fibre of her being. " _ **No!"**_

The gulls continued to dive and peck at the man's eyes and face, hands, and any bit of exposed flesh as Hermione was dropped to the sand. She struggled backwards on her rear, crying.

The man immolated the gulls with a spell, the birds flapping as they died on the beach, the flames consuming them completely.

And then, suddenly, there was an intimidating wall of black positioned between her and the attacker.

_Familiar._

_Safe._

Snape's strong, bony fingers wrapped around the man's throat and squeezed, digging into the wizard's throat.

"Avery," he said, his voice cold and full of steel. "You attacked my apprentice. By the Old Ways, I call you out. Your life is _**mine**_. May magic judge you, for I cannot."

"Snape!" Avery hissed. "You blood traitor! Taking on a Mudblood bitch!"

"My loyalty is to _magic_ ," Severus said. His eyes narrowed. "And to her alone. As a follower of the Old Ways, you should respect Magick's Choice and it's bond."

"No magic that accepts dirty blood like her is real," Avery hissed. He started to cough and perspire heavily. His tongue looked more swollen, and the fang marks on his forehead were dripping fluid. "I renounce any magic that calls _**her**_ worthy!"

The moment the words came from his mouth, his flesh became mottled and his veins blackened. His body began to go gangrenous at a shockingly rapid speed. Magic poured from his eyes, nose, and mouth as well as his very pores. Blackness seeped out of his arm, dripping like the blackened spore slime that dripped off of old mushrooms.

Magic rose like the tentacles of an anemone from the beach and poured over the blackened magical residue, purifying it with raw power.

Then, suddenly, the magic reared up and surged into Avery's body once more, only instead of merging with it, it cauterised the channels that once filled with magic, and then—

Avery exploded into a shower of seaweed that was promptly swept out to sea with the tide.

" _ **Master!"**_ Hermione cried, allowing Snape to scoop her up and embrace her. He pet her riotous curls and pressed his face into her hair.

"I've got you," he said softly. "I've got you."

Hermione buried her face into his buttons and robe, clinging to him tightly. "Don't let go. Don't let go!" She trembled against him. "He hurt Archon! I don't know where he is! He hurt my parents! He made the seagulls burn to death!"

"He won't be hurting _any_ one again," Snape said, his expression grim. "Let's go tend to your parents. I'm sure Archon will find his way back to you."

Hermione tried to put on a brave face, but there was only so much she could do after watching her castle, parents, and familiar get attacked on the same evening that an entire flock of seagulls had all spontaneously combusted after trying to protect her.

"Come on, let's go see to your parents," Severus said, tolerating her barnacle-like clinging to his person.

* * *

Hermione tolerated her mum's fussing over her for some time before the Aurors came— men and women dressed in drab brown robes and overcoats that made it seem like they had walked out of a _Dick Tracy_ scene from her father's stash of old comic books.

When the Aurors came, they had Severus pull wispy tendrils out of his head. They said they were his memories, but she'd never seen the like of them before. Her master had Apparated them all home one by one, and while she had been a bit dizzy after, both of her parents had promptly hurled onto the kitchen tile upon arrival.

_Gross!_

After a few hours of questioning and writing and even more questioning, the Aurors finally seemed satisfied, and they ran some scans over her with their wands to make sure she wasn't suffering from any other side effects due to her ordeal.

The magic tickled, and she accidentally decked one unfortunate Auror with her wing.

" _ **Sorry!"**_ she cried, horrified.

The wizard rubbed his jaw as he sat down hard on his rear, but he was laughing. "It's alright, little lass," he said.

" _ **When did my baby get wings?!"**_ Mrs Dr Granger blurted in shock.

"Wicked," Mr Dr Granger said, grinning at his daughter. "Come here, little lady, let me get a proper look at you!"

Hermione hopped into her father's lap and he gave her a good look over.

"Well, _that_ explains the extra lump in the duvet," he said with a chuckle. "And the sweatshirt."

Hermione grinned sheepishly.

"How can you be so bloody _**calm**_ about this, Matthew?" Mrs Dr Granger cried, looking awfully put out.

"It's our daughter, my dear," he replied with a smile. "Since when has she been anything but the most talented and exceptional example of a daughter? Don't you agree, Heloise?"

Hermione was immediately suspicious when her parents started using their first names with each other, but her father just gave her a warm smile and ruffled her hair as usual.

Her mum seemed to agree, if a bit begrudgingly, but she still took Hermione into her arms and hugged her tight. However, when her hands touched Hermione's silken wings, her eyes widened in wonder as the trickle of magic tickled her skin. "Oh, _wow_ ," she gasped. She hugged Hermione tighter. "You beautiful, marvelous girl," she whispered into her daughter's hair.

"I think, for the safety of your family, Mr and Mrs Granger," the older Auror said as he wrote down in his notebook. "We will have to relocate you. The type of people that you met today are not solitary, and that puts you and your daughter in great danger. I would also recommend, Master Snape, that you take your apprentice under wing as the Old Ways dictate. I am not sure why the Headmaster insisted that she return home during the summer when you are in a formal apprenticeship blessed by magic, but that is not to say you cannot visit your parents at their new location, lass. I think it would be best if you stay under the care of someone who can defend you against what happened today."

Hermione, who was looking torn between trust in her master and the prospect of not being able to see her parents, settled with a quiet sigh of relief. There was only so much a young witch could take, even if she was far more mature than any other twelve year old out there.

"Of course we'll do whatever it takes to keep our Hermione safe, Mr Savage," Hermione's father said grimly. "It is a small inconvenience if it means our daughter is not being attacked by psychopaths. Our only concern will be how we are to provide for her if we are not working."

Auror Savage took in a deep breath and let it out slowly. "I am not sure, but I think in this case, our people will work something out that will both keep you and your daughter safe and allow you both to work. For now, however—"

The Granger parents squeezed the other's hand and nodded together.

"We understand."

"It is customary for the master to provide for their apprentice," Snape said to ease both parents' minds. "She will not lack for any of her needs while under my care."

"Thank you, Professor Snape," Matthew Granger said with a nod as he hugged Hermione about the shoulders with his arm. "After today, I have no doubt she is in the most capable of hands."

That night, nestled deep in the Ministry's temporary safe-quarters, Matthew tucked his daughter in with Snape's outer robe being used as a comforting snuggle buddy, kissed his daughter goodnight, and said a silent prayer of thanks that his child had someone looking out for her safety.

As he made to walk out the door, a large black arachnid skittered passed his legs and up the duvet and under Hermione's waiting arms.

Mr Granger smiled. Someone. Some arachnid. Same difference.

He was grateful either way.

* * *

Hermione, at least when she was convinced her parents were going to be okay, jumped into her apprenticeship with both feet. The rest of the summer went into helping Severus make a suitable place for her at his home in Cokeworth using a little of all of her lessons in the process.

Learning always made her feel better, and application of learning made her feel much more useful.

She started with basic cleaning charms, scouring charms, and organisational charms. Severus helped her with the more intricate gestures after she accidentally put books on the ceiling trying to get them out of the way (much to her mortification) and her favourite place in all the world was his library. They set up a desk and lamp for her, and she was given specific instructions on which books she was not to touch.

She was curious, of course, but just when she thought she might at least take a closer look at the binding, Archon would chitter at her, web her ear with silk, and pull her away. Cuddling her resilient spider-friend was far better, and she did so, happy that he was back with her. The arachnid would sit on her shoulder, warming her neck, and sometimes he'd lay under her hand while she read giving off a content spider-purr. His body was surprisingly soft and "squishy" which made for perfect cuddling, and apparently it had also made him super hard to damage, much to her relief.

She wasn't sure what was normal for arachnids, but she liked Archon just fine how he was.

Archon wandered off often to attend to whatever spiders did in their free time, and Hermione was used to it, but she appreciated when he was back in attendance. Ciaran would often sit on her other shoulder and make commentary about the drab decor, and Archon would shoot webs at his beak, closing it tightly until Hermione came to the rescue.

She visited her parents once a week when the Aurors came to escort them, and she was glad to find out that her parents had found a gaping niche that was just waiting to be filled: Wizarding dentistry.

The Ministry was perhaps the only one in the Wizarding World that could claim their dental health was fit as a Kneazle in catnip, and her parents employed a few med-witches to use spells to numb the pain in place of injections and assist with the normal things her parents were used to.

Every time she went to the arboretum, she was tackled by a cloud of baby dragon-bats that absolutely adored her, and they would play together as they tried to get her to dangle upside-down with them in the trees. She wanted to sit straight upon the branch, but they were convinced the world looked better upside-down. When Severus came to pick her up, he would scowl up at the tree and shake his head, yet she knew it wasn't the distinctive scowl he reserved for disapproval so much as a tolerant aura of "Really?" that often accompanied her making new "friends" that all wanted to follow her home or adopt her.

She spent so much time with her new dragon-bat friends that her wings mutated a little to resemble theirs and she gained a prehensile tail to match theirs, and then so did Severus as it always seemed that what changed in one of them was reflected in the other. The dragon-bats were ecstatically happy about it, but Severus seemed more concerned about getting through a door without breaking a doorframe or knocking over a priceless antique vase.

The specialist at the DoM— a dour-looking man who looked like he infinitely preferred beasts and creatures to people— gave them both a clean bill of health and stated that their bond to each other and to magic was deeper than most and probably a soulbind.

Whatever that meant.

Hermione wasn't given any quantifiable evidence, but if that meant having wings and a dragon-bat tail was acceptable, then she was good with it.

Even her mum loved the tail. She thought it was "cute as a button."

Hermione wondered if her mum secretly admired Severus' buttons. She did, so it wasn't a hard stretch to think her mum might too.

When it came time to return to Hogwarts, Hermione was convinced that there was more magic in places that didn't revolve around school. Her master just gave her "that look" that said "obviously" where his lips pressed together and tugged in one direction. Archon just leapt on her face and pretended to maul it to death, sending her into a fit of the giggles.

Bidding her parents goodbye for the return to school, she had to be pried out of the dragon-bats' wings because they didn't want to let her go. She promised she'd return next summer, and they relented— albeit reluctantly.

* * *

Her second year brought about a new set of problems that had nothing to do with people so much as biology.

Biology demanded that every month she just spontaneously cramp and bleed, and she wasn't very happy about it.

Her magic wasn't happy about it either, because it seemed like every time she cast a spell while "under the red curse" it would be a hundred times stronger and more potent, so Merlin help her if she messed up pronunciation or a gesture and—

She'd accidentally broken the Whomping Willow out in purple flowers and turned the one side of the Forbidden Forest into Autumnal colours.

Severus shook his head and went through the gestures with her again, but he was sure to tell her that it wasn't that her pronunciation and gestures were wrong (for normal people, anyway) but that her red-cursed magic exaggerated everything she did, so she had to tone it down a little for certain days of the month.

That made her feel a lot better. She hated feeling like she was doing something wrong after practicing so much.

She did wonder why Madam Pomfrey yelled at Severus, saying "Just because she's going through her menses doesn't mean you have to have the same mental symptoms!"

Severus' scowl was legendary, however, and often trumped any verbal reprimand.

The biggest adjustment that came with her second year was that she woke up in the morning with a giant basilisk in her bed— well, curled around her bed, er, on top of and around her bed.

The giant snake simply yawned, took her into her mouth, tucked her into her coils, and then lay her head down on top like a snake-coil basket as she told her to go back to sleep.

Who could argue with a good lie in, anyway?

* * *

It wasn't hard to see it coming, but there was obviously some drama caused by a giant petrifying snake showing up at Hogwarts.

The DoM arrived (again) along with some representatives from the Department for the Regulation and Control of Magical Creatures, and Seraphina had to be fitted with a special wrap for her head to cover her deadly gaze. Tests happened, of course, to ensure that Hermione really _did_ have a bond with a giant XXXXX creature that had seemingly appeared out of nowhere.

Seraphina tolerated the poking and prodding for Hermione's sake, stating that she could see just fine thanks to the pits on the sides of her head, so at least she wouldn't be going around completely blind and bumping into things.

Archon anchored her eye wrap with an extra layer of spider silk much to Hermione's amusement, but the basilisk seemed tolerant of the rest of Hermione's companions for her sake.

Basilisk and Cerberus regarded each other with some consternation for a few weeks, but they eventually settled in as long as one hand pet the dog and the other the snake. Archon refused to be bullied from "his" spot on Hermione's shoulder and neck, and Hermione would have it no way else.

Ciaran seemed a little confused where his feathered rump fit into the equation, but eventually he found out that perching on top of Seraphina's head was pretty cool.

If Hermione was too late in getting ready for bed, Seraphina would snap her jaws around her and drag her into her coils, plunk her down, and set her head on top again. Any protest that she hadn't had time to brush her teeth was lost on the serpent's sense of priorities. Oddly enough, when Archon scuttled up, the great snake would lift her head and let him crawl in to join her before setting her head back down.

Much to Ciaran's begrudging admittance, Archon ruled the roost in the Snape quarters, and not even an ancient basilisk was going to win against one determined arachnid.

Needless to say, on a human-scale, Hermione didn't have any human visitors that weren't officials from the Ministry— save for Draco, who was every bit as tenacious as a gecko on the wall. If she had any complaints, however, she wasn't saying anything as she could even reach the top shelf where the biscuit jar was thanks to Sabrina.

Really, what more could a witch ask for?

* * *

Truly, very few people could understand Hermione Granger, but Draco was doing his damndest to _try_. After all, she was his father's only true friend, and that meant something to someone like Lucius Malfoy… or any Malfoy for that matter.

Oh there would be those who grovelled in the hopes that some of their reputation would rub off on them, but Severus— well, he didn't grovel to anyone, least of all the Malfoys. He told Lucius if his shite stank, and he told him where to stick it if Lucius told him to go take a shower.

Oddly enough—

Severus was looking a lot better since he took Hermione on.

He looked— healthy.

His hair was taking on a kind of wild mane look, but it wasn't a bad look on him at all. He's apparently gotten some of that newfangled "dental work" from the Granger's new business inside the Ministry or he'd just stopped forgetting to brush his damned teeth— either way, it was a definite win.

Draco had to admit that being around someone who was practically dripping with Olde Magick was a humbling experience, especially since Hermione didn't act like it made her better than anyone. She took everything day by day, and she treated him the same regardless of his family connections.

If anything, Hermione treated his father with respect because she knew Severus valued him, and she treated Draco with respect because he treated her with the same— something few other students at Hogwarts did.

Especially now that she had a giant snake following her around.

Seraphina, however, seemed downright nice for a gigantic homicidal snake of the XXXXX variety. Hermione said it was because she was tired of living in the bowels of Hogwarts being forced to eat vermin and nothing else. She was also lonely with no one to talk to but phantoms, and phantoms were demanding bastards.

Whatever _that_ meant.

Whatever it meant, Seraphina wasn't sharing, but she took her duties in keeping Hermione (and by proxy him) in line, and she wasn't above chomping them and caging them between her fangs to move them or inspire them to get a move on.

It was a slightly disturbing experience to be riding around in a basilisk's deadly mouth to be certain.

He thought so.

Hermione seemed to think that was normal— but her idea of normal was a little messed up, to be fair.

Normal people did _not_ cohabitate with basilisks, a giant spider, a raven, and whatever other animals decided to visit on a given day.

Not that he was complaining, really. Hermione made the kind of normal friend look downright boring and extremely inept. Sure she was a bit bossy at times, loved her planners, and quoted Severus like he was the only one that knew anything about anything, but—

Well, she wasn't exactly wrong.

It wasn't that the other teachers (erm, well most of them) weren't talented, but Severus knew how to teach Hermione, and really that was all that mattered. When Severus wasn't around, Archon had no problem putting the young witch into her place either, and surprisingly enough, Hermione treated Archon with the same respect as she did Severus—well she cuddled Archon more, obviously, and drooled on him.

The spider wasn't complaining.

The fact Draco wasn't questioning the fact that a spider had more say than most humans in Hermione's life should have said something, but Draco was learning to go with the flow. He was even willing to ignore Scarhead and Weasel's stupidity just so he could get back to Hermione and study.

Also, Seraphina made a superb water slide in the lake, and it seemed to make the other students super jealous but also fearful enough to give them a wide berth. All the better.

At least most of the Slytherin knew a good thing when they saw it, and they also knew as long as they continued to treat Hermione with respect the good times would continue, lest the wrath of Severus Snape crash down upon them and perhaps even the wrath of Olde Magick itself.

Everything seemed pretty darned peaceful, all things considered—

At least until the idiot Gilderoy Lockhart challenged Severus to a duel on the duelling platform only to get his arse handed to him—

Snape had to leave to tend to a fight in the hallway, and Hermione stayed behind to watch Draco practice duelling.

And then Draco had been set against Potter, and the only spell he could think of summoned a snake to attack him—

Not his brightest moment, to be sure.

Worse, when Professor Lockhart tried to obliterate the snake, Hermione put herself in the way to cover the snake from harm, and Lockhart's spell hit Hermione straight to the head and knocked her clear, arse over teakettle, into the far wall.

Hermione's scream as she went flying off the duelling platform was cut off abruptly as she crashed into the wall.

Everything went to Hades after that.

Snape came billowing back into the room at full boil, his eyes quickly finding Hermione's crumpled form lying upside down against the wall where she had been flung, her body seemingly in impossible angles. The viper in her hands was wrapped tightly around her wrists, fangs exposed in both fear and defence.

He knelt by Hermione and his entire body seemed to go rigid. His head swivelled, the bones in his neck cracking as his wings unfolded from his back, no longer hidden— Snape obviously no longer caring. His tail smashed against the wall in irritation causing a tapestry and portrait to come crashing down.

The sound—

Gods, the _sound_.

It was like a dying thing— or a great, suffering beast deep in the earth, as if Fenrir Himself had thrashed against the binds that tied him down until Ragnarök.

He rose and turned, obsidian claws emerging from his fingertips as his teeth seemed far too pointy to belong to anything remotely human. "By the Olde Magick, I call thee out. You have harmed my apprentice. A part of me by magic, by soul. It is my. Right. To tear. You. Apart. And I— will never forgive."

Magic surged from his body like a cluster of dark writhing tentacles, waving in the air like the tendrils of an anemone, seemingly constructed from the very depths of space.

His agony was palpable.

Magic heard and responded to his call.

And Snape was obviously in no mood to even try to control what magic was transforming him into, no.

If anything, he was willingly embracing it with his rage, his despair.

And magick—

It wanted its own pound of flesh for having hurt its most respectful and beloved child.

" _ **You stay the hell away from her, Potter!"**_ Draco cried, flinging himself in front of the black-haired wizard. Draco positioned himself directly in front of Hermione, blocking her from Harry, who was attempting to get to her, his face twisted in total confusion.

" _ **The snake!"**_ Harry cried. " _ **It's yelling at me!"**_

The distraction was enough to make Snape whirl around to snarl fiercely at him, his face barely human. That gave Lockhart the time he needed to flee, practically bowling over students to get the heck out of the room and away. Snape turned to face the direction from where Lockhart had fled, his lips pulling back from oh so sharp fangs.

Hermione's groan came from the wall, and Snape's eyes widened as he turned toward her. He was at her side in an instant, scooping her up into his arms. Her arms wrapped around his neck instantly as she buried her face into his neck and hair. "Master."

"I've got you," he whispered, his eyes glowing. With a few beats of his great wings, he was out and away, zooming off toward the infirmary as the gathered students promptly pissed themselves or passed out.

For some, perhaps both.

Draco promptly went tearing after Snape, leaving his terrified classmates in the dust.

* * *

It took about an hour to get Snape to let go of Hermione and let Poppy look at her.

It took a half hour to scrape poor Poppy off the floor after seeing Severus' rather dramatic transformation as he blew into the infirmary.

It took another hour to get Hermione to let go of her deathgrip on Snape when Dumbledore even mentioned the name "Lockhart."

It may or may not have taken Dumbledore an additional hour to convince Snape not to outright muder Lockhart in cold blood for having such a high degree of utterly mindboggling stupidity that he could hit an innocent student with an obliteration spell, regardless of the fact that he hadn't actually killed her.

Not for lack of _trying_ on his part—

About five hours later and two strong calming draughts, Severus had mostly returned to his baseline normal, sporting only wings and a tail like Hermione, and Hermione had corkscrewed her tail around his tightly for reassurance. No amount of placating on the headmaster's part could get her to let go or even consider being away from the black-clad wizard.

No where was anywhere near as safe as with Severus, and she wasn't going to let anyone tell her different.

And so Anissa joined the party as the slightly tousled, climatically displaced saw-scaled viper, and she took up residence around Hermione's neck where it was warmer and thus perfect for her cold-blooded craving for warmth. And so the population of rodents, lizards, frogs, scorpions, centipedes, and other large insects did decline even more around Hogwarts.

Seraphina may have been a little jealous of the smaller snake's portability as "no one would have _dared_ curse Hermione if I'd been there!"

Hermione placated the basilisk in that there were only so many places a basilisk could fit and still have enough room for the students.

Seraphina begrudgingly agreed.

Draco apologised profusely for having summoned Anissa out of thin air, not realising that when he cast the spell that one, he shouldn't have cast that spell anyway, and two, that he had no idea it actually transported a real living viper from somewhere in the world to Scotland.

Anissa seemed to think being with Hermione was much more comfortable than sidewinding across the hot desert in the hopes of finding an unwary rodent, and Hogwarts seemed to have an abundance of "tasty foods" for one hungry saw-scaled viper.

Anissa also had to fight for real estate on Hermione as there was already a spider and a raven with dibs on the best places to perch. Fortunately, Hermione's neck was still available to be claimed, and she wasn't too strike-happy when an unexpected corvid or arachnid landed nearby for cuddles.

She still wasn't too trusting of Draco, despite his apologies, but it was getting better.

Meanwhile, while Hermione was recovering, Draco reported that Scarhead and Weaselmunch had fallen down a hole in the bathroom trying to chase after Lockhart (why, no one was really sure) and ended up with a broken collar bone, arm, and a number of cracked ribs from falling on top of each other.

Lockhart had apparently tried to Obliviate the two idiots, and accidentally Obliviated himself, but not before both boys had realised that the lower half of Lockhart was sporting a baboon's rear end and legs.

How they hadn't noticed that before they took their tumble down some unknown, hidden stone shaft was a secret to everyone.

They also found Ginevra Weasley down in that not-so-secret-anymore Chamber of Secrets, hissing in some language that made her sound possessed as she cut off the head of chickens to collect the blood.

There was obviously something really messed up going on in there—

Something that would require serious therapy and probably a stay at St Mungo's.

And so ended year two in the life of Hermione Jean Granger and her ever-growing entourage—

No one was more glad to see it end than Dumbledore, who had locked himself away in his ivory tower to—how _did_ Minerva put it during the staff meeting?

Pout.

A hundred and eleven year old wizard pouting like a child made everyone nervous.

Snape said it was because they had been given permission by the board of governors to stay at the school due to the apprenticeship. Others said it was because Snape took Hermione back to Spinner's End and practically flipped Dumbledores phoenix on the way out.

What was the truth?

Only the gods and Olde Magick knew for sure.

One thing was for certain, when Snape saw Hermione dangling upside down with the dragon-batlings in the arboretum, he could only sigh with relief that at least some things were uncomplicated.

If only Amelia Bones would stop trying to recruit them—

Pest.

* * *

Hermione's third year was heralded by Dementors hovering above the school grounds.

Apparently, someone named Sirius Black had escaped from the infamous Wizarding prison, Azkaban.

Harry Potter had apparently passed out cold on the train thanks to their "visit" and was subsequently revived by a new teacher, Professor Lupin, who had joined the staff as this year's DADA teacher.

Lupin seemed extremely curious about Hermione, especially since she was ever-present at Snape's side.

Snape gave Lupin the kind of look reserved for flobberworms and pond scum, and Hermione couldn't help but be curious as to why.

Hermione sat by her master's side whether for reading, studying, or meals, and she was rarely "in public" where Snape wasn't nearby, save for Minerva's or Flitwick's classes. She branched out a little by taking on Arithmancy, but her opinion of Divination tanked severely when the bug-eyed woman tried to fondle her master's arse in front of her saying he should "ditch his little apprentice and spend time with _her_."

Worse, she took the liberty of stroking her master's wings (even when they were hidden!)— something so intimate that he practically spontaneously combusted the moment her hand touched them. Usually, only Hermione touched her master— the pull of their conjoined magic making it the most comforting sensation imaginable.

Draco and Hermione nervously scooted a little closer to each other as a furious Snape roared directly in Trelawney's face. " _ **Keep your bloody groping hands to yourself before I rip them off!"**_

"Awww, Shevruss, you _**know**_ you don't mean that!" the witch gushed fatuously. "We're _**meant**_ , my dear!"

"I would not willingly share space with you if you were the last abomination on this planet," he hissed back at her. "The fact that I must share air in the same school as you makes me want to vomit!"

The fact that Trelawney attempted to grope his arse yet again made both Hermione and Draco want to vomit themselves, and they turned their heads away.

_**SHHH-CLICK!** _

Seraphina's jaws clamped around Severus, robes and all, and she slithered off with him, using her tail to fling Trelawney bodily up the stairs into her tower on her way out.

Draco and Hermione exchanged satisfied "Well, _that_ works" expressions as they followed after.

Severus stayed sequestered in the shower for a solid hour after that, just long enough for Hermione and Draco to finish their homework. He emerged from the shower looking rather pink from vigorous scrubbing with scalding water and harsh soap, wearing the dour expression to end all saturnine expressions.

"Let's go for a fly," he said flatly, his wings quivering with anticipation.

Hermione beamed, always ready to fly with him.

Draco frowned, conflicted.

"You may attend—" he said with a weary sigh. "On your broom."

Draco grinned from ear to ear. " _ **Yes!"**_

* * *

Remus wasn't quite sure what to make of Severus Snape. The Dementors were hovering around making everyone nervous, but Severus was out there on the grounds teaching his apprentice like nothing abnormal was going on.

Apprentice? And a Muggleborn witch at that?

How was that even _possible?_

Dumbledore said it was a Olde Magick sealed bond—

The kind of thing that was put in the same sacred space as soulmates and other legendary things that didn't really happen these days.

Besides— how could he be with anyone after Lily?

And Lily had broken him—

They had broken him—

He and his best mates: James, Sirius, and Peter.

And Lily…

Lily most of _all_.

He had seen Severus on occasion since those days, but the man had always looked more than a little worn and weary. He looked far older than he should for his age, and for that Remus felt a niggling of guilt start to chew on his stomach.

Yet—

Severus looked almost— young.

The lines on his face, the permanent scowl, and the heaviness of burden no longer seemed to weigh upon him.

And where Lily had failed him by not trusting him time and time again—

His apprentice— Hermione was it?—trusted him not only to teach her but to guide her and protect her, to inspire her, and to be the kind of person worthy of trust.

How many times had he seen Snape beg Lily to believe in him, to trust him? And she had thrown it all back in his face.

But this little wisp of a girl with a bushy cloud of wild curls— she was pretty enough but no glorious Lily in the looks department— had a strange sort of radiance about her. When she smiled at Snape, Snape— _gods_ — his lips turned up just a fraction, turning that scowl he was long known for into a slight, almost imperceptible smile.

And the girl—

They had never trusted their teachers like this girl trusted Snape, and she touched him, a little tug on his sleeve, a small touch of her hand on his, or even a pressing against the tall wizard's wall of wool when she felt insecure.

When he watched the move, she copied his movements down to the smallest detail, never straying far from him when he had a lesson to teach. It was the kind of thing only those totally in sync with the other could accomplish.

And then, when Snape released her to enjoy her free time, that same girl would frolic and play on the green like so many other children would, seemingly unaffected by Snape's stricter teaching methodology. The other teachers said she was a model student in their classes— all save Trelawney who believed the girl was a demon child.

And Slytherin seemed to tolerate her— a lowly Muggleborn?

Surely _that_ was a bloody farce in itself.

And that Draco Malfoy—

No Malfoy in the history of Malfoys could ever be trusted, and there he was sidling up to the Granger witch like she was his best friend.

Impossible.

Suddenly Snape was looking skyward as if a passing cloud was of great interest. He pointed up toward— something. He pulled out something small, gold and shiny and released it.

A snitch!

It took off into the air.

Granger bounced up on her heels, nodding enthusiastically. A grinning Malfoy mounted his broom, and a pair of great wings unfolded from Snape's back.

Wings!

Surely they weren't functional?

Magical. Illusionary even.

He took off— what?!

Malfoy crowed joyfully, taking off after him.

Hermione seemed to tilt her head, staring off into the distance, and then she too was off like a shot on wings of pure magic.

Remus had to sit down hard.

Of all the people in the world, magic had blessed _**Snape?!**_

* * *

As Snape brought him his concoction for the month, Remus noticed that the girl was not in attendance.

"So, Severus— an apprentice?"

Snape narrowed his eyes. "What of it, Lupin?" He crossed his arms in front of his chest.

Remus frowned. "It's not like you to take on an apprentice. And a young Gryffindor Muggleborn at that."

"And you are so very knowledgeable about what motivates me, aren't you, Lupin?"

"Look Sn-Severus," Lupin said with a deep sigh. "I can't help but notice how much she trusts you."

"Is that not the very nature of apprenticeship?" Snape said, his black eyes narrowing even further. "The master takes care of the apprentice. The apprentice trusts the master to teach and protect them."

"Albus tells me that she could really help Harry—"

"Albus is a manipulative old goat who attempted to break an established magical bond to benefit his favoured mistake."

"Albus is a very great man and great wizard, Severus."

"And that stupid boy who wears Potter's face? He is an arrogant little shit who traipses around the school like he's the chosen one, only he has no idea what he's been chosen for, does he, Lupin? He doesn't listen to anyone but the youngest Weasel boy, and that always ends so well for him, doesn't it? His father was nothing but a swine, and Potter Junior just a chip off the old hoof, isn't he?"

" _ **You take that back!"**_ Harry yelled as he leapt out from behind the curtain where he had been eavesdropping on his professors, but the curtain wrapped around his arm and he stumbled forward and tumbled headfirst over the chair.

Lupin's goblet of potion went splattering to the floor, a small cloud of sickly green smoke rising up from the flagstones upon which it had spilled.

Snape's lips curled into an impressive sneer. "Eavesdropping, Potter? How terribly mature of you. And to that end. I will allow Lupin here to explain to you how you have just sent him up the proverbial creek without a paddle. Won't you, Lupin? I _do_ hope your manacles have been well-polished."

Snape spun, storming out the door and into the hall. "Apprentice. Attend."

"Yes, Master!"

Lupin saw Hermione immediately hop down off her perch on the large windowsill in the hall, closing up her textbook and putting away her notes before stuffing them into her knapsack and taking her customary place next to Snape.

"Master?"

"Hrm?"

"May we have ice cream tonight? I finished all of my homework in record time!"

"I suppose so," he replied. "Have you cleaned the cauldron?"

"Of course, Master." She made a soft tsking sound.

"I must go tell the headmaster of a certain development. Prepare the cauldron and ingredients and I will join you on the hour."

"Yes, Master!"

She began to rush down another hallway.

"Do not run in the halls, Apprentice."

"I'm not running, Master. I'm walking briskly!"

"Hrmph," Snape said as he continued his trek down the hall.

Harry pulled himself off the ground with a pained grunt as Lupin watched the pair leave. "What did he mean about manacles? And what was that potion?"

Remus ran his fingers through his light brown hair and sighed. "It is a certain potion that I require every month to avoid experiencing unimaginable pain and outbursts of wanton violence, Harry. I take it so I can keep my mind."

"Well, he can brew it again, right? He's just being a right bastard about it!"

"No, Harry," Remus said quietly. "The potion is exceedingly complex and requires a full month of brewing by an experienced master. And very few masters are capable of successfully brewing it. It is also quite expensive."

"Snape must have more of it hidden away!"

"No, Harry, he brews just enough for each month, and that was what he brought me tonight."

"But Snape—"

" _Professor_ Snape, Harry," Remus said sternly. "He is your teacher and deserving of proper respect."

Harry grit his teeth. "He's the _worst_ teacher in this entire bloody school."

Remus closed his eyes for a long moment. "You may not like him, Harry, but Professor Snape is an extremely talented wizard, and he really knows his potions."

"But he stole magic away from Neville's mum and dad, that's why they're in St Mungos! Everyone says so!"

Remus frowned. "Everyone?"

Harry nodded firmly, adamant.

"I think you need to stop listening to unsubstantiated rumours, Harry." Remus sighed. "Professor Snape is a very complicated man, and I can honestly say that, given what I once thought I knew about him has proven to be scarcely anything at all."

"You knew him before? Like my dad? And my mum?"

Remus frowned. "No, Harry. I fear I knew nothing of him back then that wasn't just like your rumour just now. And rumours will kill you, Harry."

* * *

"Master?"

"Hn?"

"Why does Professor Lupin watch me so closely?"

Snape sighed, shaking his head. "Lupin does not understand our apprenticeship."

Hermione walked out of Seraphina's mouth with a giant toothbrush and plunked it into the nearby bucket. She used her wand to spray water in between the serpent's fangs like a water pick. "What's so hard to understand about it?"

Ciaran gleefully hopped in between the fangs and picked out the bits that were freed from Seraphina's teeth.

"He remembers me from when we went to school together, and the memories do not match up."

"That's illogical," Hermione said, frowning. "I wasn't there then, so obviously they aren't going to match up."

Severus huffed. "There is that, yes."

Hermione leaned into Severus as she read her book, snuggling in the crook of his wing and wool. "You were grading for a long time tonight. Were the essays awful?"

Snape snorted. "Rarely are they not."

Hermione frowned. "Are mine awful?"

"They are acceptable."

Hermione frowned harder. She leaned harder into Snape's wing, pouting as she read.

Severus' lips pulled up into small smile.

"You're fooling me!" Hermione cried, crossing her arms in a very familiar motion.

"Perhaps."

He shrugged his shoulders, rubbing one side with his hand. "It's time for bed for you," he said. "I must patrol."

Hermione yawned and stood up, stretching her wings all the way out until they shook as she tensed up her entire body and then relaxed. Snape stood and gave her a nod.

"Don't let Seraphina push you out of bed."

Hermione grinned. "Archon won't let her."

Severus' expression softened. "Off with you."

"Yes, Master! Goodnight." She scurried off to brush her teeth before bed.

"Goodnight, Apprentice," he said quietly before turning and leaving.

Later, as Hermione settled in for sleep, she tossed and turned as she sprawled over Seraphina's coils and tried to get comfortable even to the point of grabbing Ciaran and trying to cuddle him. The raven rawked and tolerated it, but it wasn't quite the feel Hermione was looking for. Anissa tried to be comforting as much as a saw-scaled viper was capable of, but Hermione felt like the princess laying on top of a pea. Nothing was quite right.

As she lay staring up at the ceiling, the familiar warmth of one arachnid snuggled up to her neck.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Archon and squeeze snuggled him, pressing her face into his soft body.

She was out in seconds.

* * *

"Hey, Granger," a voice came from up the path.

Hermione narrowed her eyes from her favourite spot by the trees.

"What do you want?" she asked, suspicious.

"I want to know why you stick with Snape," the wizard said, his face twisted in barely contained disgust.

"He's my master," Hermione said.

"You could have said no."

"Why would I have done that?"

"He's a git."

"So are you!" Anissa hissed, baring her fangs as she struck the air in front of Hermione's face.

Harry took a step back. "You have that snake from the duel."

"So?"

"She yelled at me before."

"Did you deserve it?"

Harry blinked.

"That was your snake Malfoy threw at me?"

"No."

"What do you mean no?"

"She wasn't my snake until after Professor Lockhart tried to murder me."

Harry stared.

"And she's not mine because of that. She wants to be with me."

Anissa nodded her head, tongue flicking. "You're a shithead," the snake announced.

Hermione's eyes widened as she put her hand over the serpent's snout. "That's rude."

"It's true."

Harry's face crinkled. "Snape is a horrible person."

"Not to me."

"Don't you see how he treats other people?"

"I see a bunch of people who chit chat during classes instead of listening to his lecture, complaining when they should be doing their assignments, and then whinging about how they were caught and punished for doing exactly that." Hermione's eyes seemed to darken. "You have right in front of you one the best teachers in England, but you are far more interested in skiving off and playing Quidditch than actually learning."

Hermione closed her eyes. "But what _I_ see doesn't really matter, does it? You are here to accuse me of seeing nothing when actually it's about not seeing things _your_ way."

Harry's face darkened. "You're keeping Professor Lupin's medicine from him!"

Hermione's eyebrows knit together. "My master made one batch of a very complicated potion for Professor Lupin. There was only enough for one week's worth, about the size of one goblet."

"You're _**lying!**_ You're keeping the potion from him to _**hurt**_ him!"

Hermione's expression darkened. "Quite the opposite, actually."

Harry's face was attempting to turn a dark shade of aubergine, and Hermione stood up to leave.

"If you're thinking of following me, don't," Hermione said, her black robes billowing about her slender form in an unnervingly familiar manner. "It could kill you."

"You're _**threatening**_ me now?"

Hermione tilted her head. "Attempting to save your life."

"I can take care of myself."

"How well has that worked for you, so far?" Hermione asked, not expecting an answer.

"You're just as fucked up as Snape," Harry accused.

"I'd rather be like him," Hermione said, her expression deadpan, "than be a ruddy dunderhead like you."

Suddenly, Hermione was upside down, suspended by her feet, her robes flowing down.

" _ **You take that back!"**_

Hermione's mouth was now full of soap suds and she coughed violently trying to clear them from her throat.

A triple-barking howl sounded off a short distance from Hogwarts, and suddenly there was a resounding crash as Ezrah smashed through the wall and window and tumbled out. He yelped as he hit the ground a little harder than expected, but it only served to fan the flames of his anger. He ran straight for the tree where Hermione was helplessly dangling and choking on soap suds.

Meanwhile, an enormous sinuous shape slithered out of the opening as one extremely brassed off basilisk emerged from the hole the dog had left for her. She scraped the wrap away from her eyes, and hissed loudly, propelling herself forward and at an amazing pace, her sulfurous orange eyes blazing ominously even in the bright of day.

Harry staggered backwards, his anger having been replaced by a rather generous helping of "oh _**fuck**_."

As the Cerberus slammed into the tree in his enthusiasm to obliterate everything, the basilisk slid by, the tree having been removed from her skid direction.

"I will fucking _**MURDER YOU!"**_ the basilisk screamed in fury.

She hissed in agitation as Hermione fell on top of her head.

" _ **No, Seraphina!"**_

Hermione wrapped herself around the basilisk's eyes even as she coughed and choked on the soap bubbles.

The basilisk thrashed around a few times but then settled, mouth open wide as venom pooled and dripped down her fangs, killing foliage instantly as it hit the ground. Ezrah looked slightly confused as to what was the proper response to the change in tactics and promptly sat on Harry Potter.

Even as a dark storm of magic seemed to seep up from the ground forming a cluster of anemone-like tentacles—

Even as the form of what might have been Severus Snape had it not looked so bestial and utterly terrifying. Great wings unfolded from his body like the demon from Night on Bald Mountain even as inhuman fangs were bared in nothing short of pure venomous hate. A long tail whipped in the air, almost taking out another tree.

The basilisk immediately lowered her head to the ground in deference even as Ezrah did the same.

Hermione clung to the basilisk's head, determined not to allow her to kill anyone— whether by accident or by design.

Snape's snarl was deep, the ground reverberating with its rumble. He tore off his already tattered robes and wrapped the basilisk's head. Then, and only then did he turn and give Harry a look that make murder seem like an merciful option.

"Following in your father's footsteps, Potter?" he growled, his voice twisted by a growl. "Did Lupin hold your hand and teach you your father's dirty old tricks?"

Harry's face fought between horror and indignation, yet even as the two fought for purchase on his face, the slight twitch of guilt seemed to play about his frown lines.

Snape's ire seethed by proxy of tendrils of magic that writhed around his body. He turned to touch Hermione's cheek where mud and bark had clung to it. "Are you alright?"

Hermione nodded.

The tendrils of magic had no social qualms and wrapped around her and dragged her close, pressing her into Snape's (remaining) buttonline. He stiffened a moment and then seemed let go of his rage in favour of wrapping his wings protectively around his apprentice. Then, and only then, did the magical whirlwind fade away along with his more bestial features.

Harry had only a moment to realise other than the fact it was very difficult to breathe being sat upon by a giant hound, that Snape closed his eyes as his pale hand braced the back of Hermione's head of curls.

He then saw the very unhappy countenance of Albus Dumbledore looking down at him after having rapidly assessed the abused trees, a basilisk with student robes tied around its eyes, a three-headed dog, the huge hole in his school, and sight of Snape sheltering his trembling apprentice from whatever all the above had been involved in.

"Mr Potter," the headmaster said with a scowl. "What in Merlin's name happened here?"

"They're hiding a potion that Professor Lupin needs for his health!" Harry blurted. "She lied to me and said there wasn't any more, and he _**needs**_ it!"

Dumbledore's eyes narrowed. "While I find it quite interesting that you apparently know about Professor Lupin's medical condition, I find it infinitely more troubling that there is a giant hole in the side of my school and a traumatised young witch whose master couldn't leave my staff meeting fast enough to get to her side."

Harry grit his teeth angrily. "She called me a _**dunderhead!**_ "

Albus raised an eyebrow.

"Attacking a fellow student with magic outside of the duelling platform or a classroom under supervision is a very grave offence, Mr Potter." Albus closed his eyes. "But you attacked an apprentice of one of our teachers, and that will require more serious consideration. Severus, if you could please remove the dog so Mr Potter can go to my office? Also, please take Apprentice Granger to the infirmary to be checked out by Poppy."

"Yes, Headmaster," Snape said, shooting Harry a glare as he escorted Hermione, Ezrah, and Seraphina back to the school in a slower, less homicidal fervor.

"Now, Harry," Dumbledore said grimly. "How is it that you know anything about Professor Lupin's potions?"

Harry paled as stones settled in his stomach.

* * *

Archon spider-hissed at Poppy as she approached, and the medi-witch halted long enough to give the spider an appraising stare.

Hermione cuddled him closer. "Be nice to Madam Pomfrey. She just wants to check me out."

Archon raised his legs and aimed his fangs at the medi-witch, even while being cuddled.

Hermione turned him around so his belly was facing her chest and snuggled him. "Be nice now," she chided the arachnid. "We don't want to get in more trouble."

Archon seemed unimpressed, but he allowed Hermione to cuddle him into submission.

Poppy waved her wand over her a few times, clucking her tongue. "You're quite fine, my dear," she said. "A little bruised and scuffed, but nothing a little essence of dittany can't fix. You'd think the way Severus stormed out of here like he was going to commit seven acts of murder that you'd been hurt badly."

Hermione cuddled Archon. "My master felt my fear. He said he could see what was happening as it did."

"That's a strong bond you have, child," Poppy said. "I'm glad he is able to tell when you need him."

"I feel bad having to rely on him to save me from other students, and I upset Ezrah and Seraphina!"

"And me!" Anissa chimed in, tongue flicking.

"And Anissa," Hermione added.

Archon thumped her face with his front legs.

"And Archon."

Poppy chuckled. "I think any real friend would worry about you, Miss Granger. Whether that be human or otherwise."

Ciaran landed on the infirmary windowsill and cawed. He had his face covered in orange jelly.

Arcon and Anissa scolded the raven in their respective languages, and the raven looked awfully confused as to why he was being yelled at.

"Get some rest, dear," Poppy said as she brought her a warm blanket. "I'll keep you here overnight so poor Severus doesn't fret over you."

"Okay," Hermione said. "Thank you, Madam Pomfrey."

Hermione fluffed her pillow and pulled her blanket up over herself. Archon settled against her neck and chest, and she was asleep in minutes.

* * *

Hermione woke to hear a commotion somewhere else in the infirmary

Curiosity flared as she heard voices talking about Sirius Black, murderer, and danger to Harry Potter.

When she moved to sit up and listen closer, Archon chittered at her and pounced her sternum as if to push her back down on the bed and go back to sleep.

"But, I want to listen," Hermione protested.

Archon glowered at her.

Hermione picked up Archon and hugged him tight, flopping on her side and pulling her blanket back over herself. "Fine, I trust you," she muttered, closing her eyes again.

Archon settled in next to her neck, eyes glowing dimly from under the cover of Hermione's curls.

* * *

Hermione woke to hear her master and the adults speaking with the headmaster, and she rubbed her neck where Archon had spent the night. The spider was off hunting somewhere, she supposed, but Anissa playfully struck at her hand and fingers, rubbing up against her chin with tongue flicks.

"Did you get something to eat?" she asked the serpent.

"I'd like to go hunting for a nice fat rat," the snake said. "But if I leave you alone, Archon will silk me up like human laundry and leave me hanging in the window like a fly caught in a web."

Hermione frowned at the image. "I don't think Archon would do that."

The serpent shook her head back and forth with a smooth dipping motion. "After yesterday, he would."

Hermione frowned even harder. "I'm sorry I worried everyone."

"It wasn't your fault that boy is a tosser," Anissa said. "The only good thing about him is that he speaks snake so I can yell at him."

"He does?"

Anissa nodded.

"I thought you were just yelling at him to yell at him. Usually people don't understand what you say."

Anissa wiggled, her version of a serpent shrug. "He seemed to understand Seraphina well enough, but that might have been all the fangs and venom dripping. It's really hard not to understand murder coming straight for your face."

Hermione gulped. "I'm glad she didn't kill anyone."

"Killing is a natural thing," Anissa said. "Killing him would have been a service."

"Anissa!"

"What? It's true. He's a wanker."

Hermione clapped the snake's snout shut. "You really need to go eat. You're such a potty mouth when you're hungry."

"Can't leave you alone," Anissa said.

"Our master is right over there. I'll be fine."

The serpent looked dubious. "Okay, but no funny business!"

Hermione sulked. "Since when do I _ever_ engage in funny business?"

Anissa slid off her neck and flopped onto the mattress. "Funny business always finds you," she said, slithering off to find food.

Hermione wrinkled her nose. "Okay, you might be right there."

* * *

Harry was determined to help Professor Lupin, but the man had shut down much of their communication after he had found out that the old journal of his father's had given him not only encouragement to hate on "Snivellus" but also the spells they had crafted to torment the man when he'd been a student.

Remus had tried to give Harry a piece of his father, but instead had encouraged Harry to become the very shade of Snape's past: the tormenter, the bully.

Only it hadn't been Snape that had suffered the effects this time, no.

It had been Hermione Granger, Snape's apprentice, whose only sin had been to be different in a way Snape could understand all too well.

Not so perfect looks.

Not so perfect way of thinking.

And Minerva McGonagall saw the pattern all too well.

Remus wanted a connection to his old mates— wanted Potter's boy to know a piece of his father, but after confiscating the old journal, Minerva had found damning evidence of what Severus had gone through at the hands of James Potter, Sirius Black, Peter Pettigrew, and even Remus himself.

Perhaps, Lupin had kept the journal as one would keep a shrine, untouched and unread, thinking it was a kind of sacred memory fit only for Potter's son.

Perhaps, he hadn't known what it would "teach" Potter's unborn son in the future should it go to him—

There were a lot of perhaps and guessing.

But in watching Hermione Granger cuddling her spider familiar and chatting with the viper and the eye-wrapped basilisk like they were just any friend, reading on a windowsill, studying in just about any place in the castle or out— Minerva was starting to think that maybe the Sorting was just another way to condemn a child into a mould beset by labels.

And maybe for most children, it gave them the inspiration to be better than they thought they were, but for others—

Some children defied a set definition.

Had Severus realised this before anyone? That Hermione Granger was more than someone to be thrust into the lives of Harry Potter?

Albus seemed to think Hermione needed to be with Harry in Gryffindor— at least he had until a basilisk and a Cerberus had tried to tear the boy to pieces.

Now, Albus was starting to think that maybe it was a bit dangerous to let the son of James Potter make up his own mind and find his own way—

Worse, Minerva was thinking some of the peer "help" Harry was getting was contributing to his problem, not that peer pressure hadn't been a common problem throughout generations of witches and wizards.

Could she possibly save Harry Potter from himself and keep Severus from murdering the boy in perfectly justifiable protection of his apprentice under the Old Laws?

Potter was definitely trying to do his best to piss off the one wizard whose tolerance for anything was already set at a low bar.

"Archon, you're being silly," Hermione chuckled as the spider chittered, mock attacking when she tried to keep reading her book. She tried to shoo the spider off her book, but he bounced up and down and raised his front legs, clacking his fangs.

"Okay, okay," she said, cuddling the deadly arachnid as if he was her favourite cuddle toy before closing her book. "Do you think Lord Malfoy will like the tea I blended?"

She placed the spider on her shoulder as she gathered the rest of her things. "I'm not sure, Anissa. I don't think Lord Malfoy wants venom in his tea, even if it is an exotic drink in other countries."

The viper around Hermione's neck hissed, mouth open in a serpent laugh.

"Oh!" Hermione said, stopping before she ran into her professor. " Professor McGonagall. I'm sorry I didn't see you there!"

Minerva frowned, and she immediately regretted it as the girl read her expression and stepped backwards.

 _Damn it all. The girl was used to responding to the world's most taciturn wizard. Of course she'd read her expression before her words!_ Minerva thought.

The spider on the girl's shoulder raised his legs and exposed his fangs.

Hermione smooshed the spider against her neck. "Shht. That's the Deputy Headmistress!"

The spider wrapped his legs around her hand, glowering at her with all of his eyes.

"I'm sorry, Miss Granger. I did not mean to startle you," Minerva said. "Are you well?"

Hermione looked a bit startled at the question. "Yes, Professor. We were just going to feed Ezrah and Seraphina so they don't get cranky before teatime."

Minerva found the intense regard of arachnid and viper a bit disconcerting, even while the Granger girl bowed her head respectfully. "Don't let me stop you, Miss Granger," she said. "I am sorry for surprising you."

Hermione brightened. "That's okay. I get self-absorbed."

The viper around Hermione's neck bobbed her head.

"Anissa says my head is in the clouds dreaming of a world where people aren't dunderheads."

Hermione frowned at the snake. "I do not."

The viper seemed to be laughing. The spider bounced up and down on her shoulder, seemingly amused.

Hermione pouted, but she smiled at Minerva.

Minerva smiled at her. "There is nothing wrong with dreaming a little, Miss Granger."

Hermione grinned. "I thought so."

Hermione unwrapped Anissa from her neck and held her out to Minerva. "She wants to taste your scent so she doesn't accidentally strike at you."

Minerva furrowed her brows. "What does she need me to do?"

"Just hold still, I think," Hermione said.

Minerva nodded, and a short time later the serpent's tongue flicked against her nose. The viper seemed satisfied and rewrapped herself around Hermione's neck.

"Thank you," Hermione said, translating. "Anissa tends to strike first and ask questions later. She appreciates knowing your scent."

Anissa playfully chomped Hermione's ear, tugging on it. Hermione giggled. "Good night, Professor."

"Goodnight, Miss Granger," Minerva said as the girl left swiftly and silently, much like her master.

Minerva wondered if someone had paid attention to Severus back when he was young like his apprentice if so many hardships would have been avoided.

* * *

_Kkzkz_ _**CLACK!** _

Anissa's jaws closed around a fat beetle that got too close to Hermione's face.

"Mmpph… takeaway comes to _me_ ," she serpent mumbled.

Hermione chuckled, rubbing the viper under the chin. "Tasty?"

"Of course. I prefer rodents and lizards and even frogs, but a nice juicy bug makes for a pleasant variety."

"I suppose you have to be flexible when food is scarce," Hermione said.

"Not so scarce now that I'm with you," Anissa said. "I'm definitely not complaining."

Hermione snuggled the viper. "I like having you here too."

Anissa hissed happily. She then perked as a certain black-haired wizard was staring holes into Hermione. "What does _**that**_ fucktard want?"

Hermione blinked and hugged Anissa closer to her body. "Language, Anissa!"

"No one but you can understand me— and him— the bloody wanker."

Hermione kissed Anissa on the snout. "Don't let him bother you."

"But he's such a bleeding haemorrhoid on the arsehole of life," Anissa complained with a disdainful hiss. "And he could comb his damned hair every so often. Even Severus does that, not that the constant exposure to potion fumes does his locks any favours. Or yours for that matter."

The viper tugged on Hermione's curls and made tsking noises.

Hermione chuckled. She finished the parchment she was writing. "I think I kept it down to three feet this time. Master says I'm terribly long-winded."

Anissa gave a viper-shrug. "At least you say what you mean, but hey, less to carry around!"

Hermione grinned. "Bob's your uncle."

She gathered up her textbooks and placed them in her bag along with her parchments.

"I told Master we'd go gather the moss for tonight's potions lesson," she said. "We should get Seraphina so she doesn't bite me for leaving her out."

Anissa hissed merrily. "That's what she gets for not being portable."

Hermione smiled. "Not everyone is travel sized, love."

* * *

Ciaran rawked from atop Hermione's shoulder, peering down into the hole. "Whoever heard of underground moss? Moss is supposed to grow topside."

Hermione tutted. "It's subterranean moss that's required for the Darker Than Night potion. It's special."

"It's _strange_ ," the raven said rather dubiously.

"That too," Hermione agreed, plucking the soft and strangely pettable moss. She placed it in the specially lined bag to keep it protected from light and drying out.

"Pardon me, young foal," a deep voice interrupted. "Might I trouble you for some of that moss? We use it for healing compresses that draw out infections, and I have yet to see someone find it so easily."

Hermione started to see a huge centaur stallion regarding her. He had streaks of earthpaint on his face and down his flanks and a bow hung on his back. His raven black mane was glossy and braided.

Hermione blinked and then dug in deeper where the moss was bit more buried. She had to reach far into the hole, and the moss didn't much like being handled with magic, so in she went, head first and arms next.

She inched back up a few moments later, face covered in dirt, but with her hands clasping a large growth of subterranean moss that had grown so deep that the cluster was very dense and plump. She rose up and handed it to the centaur. "Is this enough?"

The centaur's eyes widened. "More than enough." He pulled out a hide-covered bladder and passed it to her.

Hermione packed the moss into the bladder for him before passing it back. She dripped mud and small pieces of detris, and the centaur seemed to appraise her from head to toe.

The centaur wore a stern face, but it seemed to soften around the edges. He took his fingers and dipped it into a clay dish, a rusty red dripping from them. He gently painted her face with lines and put the dish away. With a snort he took a necklace from around his neck and placed it around hers.

"Whether you knew it or not, you have done my herd a great service, and you demanded nothing in return," the centaur said. "I am Bane of the Dark Forest Herd. I call you friend and herd-sister. Should you ever require safe passage through our forest, burn the sweet grass with the leaf of this tree, and we will come at once to escort you."

"Thank you, Bane," Hermione said a little shyly, feeling a bit awkward while still covered in mud and random debris. "I am Hermione, Apprentice to Master Snape."

"We know your master well, foal Hermione," Bane said. "It is forbidden to speak of our ways to the uninitiated, so we know your respect was indeed genuine. But now that we can speak freely, a name to be used amongst the herd should be chosen. To us, I would name you Foxglove, for it is a flower most beautiful but can kill as well as heal. But in its use, one must admire both its beauty and respect its potential lethality, just as I must admire your bravery and respect your kindness."

Hermione smiled up at him but also flushed in embarrassment.

"Apprentice?" Snape's voice startled Hermione, and she looked up at him with muddy-faced shame.

"Hello, Master," she squeaked.

Ciaran pecked at her ear, and a glob of mud that had been clinging to her curls fell off Hermione with a _splat_.

Snape's eyebrow was tilted in the perfect position to launch.

"Blackthorn," Bane greeted.

"Bane." Severus nodded his head.

Bane chuckled. "I recall with great fondness how you became known to our herd, Blackthorn. Was it not a muddy event for yourself as well?"

Snape's eyes narrowed. "It was hardly _my_ doing."

Bane's expression was deeply amused, the fine wrinkles around his eyes betraying his mirth.

"Come, it is time for our lessons," Severus sighed. "After a bath, I think."

"Do not be too hard on Foxglove, Blackthorn," Bane said. "She provided the herd with quite a large quantity of Mendfast."

"Foxglove," Severus repeated questioningly. He regarded Hermione with an evaluating look-over.

Hermione swallowed hard under his umbral gaze.

"It is a good name."

Hermione beamed.

As Hermione practically bounced back to the school at Snape's side, Bane flicked his tail and chuckled, trotting back into the forest.

Ciaran dutifully dumped dirt back into the hole and planted an apple seed in the broken ground before flying off toward the castle ramparts.

* * *

"Harry," Remus sighed as he sat down on the carved stone bench. "You really need to get this idea out of your head that Professor Snape is some kind of evil that lives solely to get you in trouble. So far, you have been doing that just fine all on your own."

Harry frowned, crossing his arms across his chest. "Dad said in his journal that Snape was a greasy git who curses people for no reason."

Remus frowned. "There is always a reason for cursing someone, Harry. We may not like the reason, but the reason exists."

"He's such a git," Harry said mulishly. "He hates everyone."

"That's not true, Harry."

"Why are _**you**_ defending him?!" Harry demanded.

"Because there is more to Professor Snape than you think," Remus said, "but it is not my place to tell you about them. Had you read to the end of your father's journal, maybe you would have found out, but instead you picked up that Professor Snape is not a nice person and your dad's curses. That was not why I gave it to you."

Harry set his jaw stubbornly.

"Professor Snape is a brilliant potioneer, Harry," Remus said. "His grasp of Dark magic is indeed great, but you cannot pretend to teach defence against what you do not know."

"But you are teaching Defence, not him!" Harry said.

"I'm rubbish at potions," Remus said. "I have no other avenues of passion that I could also teach. Charms always seemed too swirly and flourishing to me. I'm no talent in herbology or even flying."

A soft laugh caught their attention and they looked up to the sight of Hermione bowing to a hippogriff next to Hagrid's hut. Snape stood nearby speaking with the half-giant, passing the man a basket of bottles and tins.

Hermione threw something dark and furry into the air, and the hippogriff caught it with a snap of its beak. She laughed and bowed again, the hippogriff seeming content to devour its prize and snuffle Hermione's hair.

Harry watched, his face reddening, as the hippogriff play-bowed on his forelegs, and invited her to mount him.

Hermione looked to Snape, hopeful but trusting his judgement— _Snape! The git!_

Snape nodded, helping her up.

Hermione sat up straight— the look of someone who had been used to sitting astride a horse, her back straight and balance centred.

The hippogriff launched into the air, causing the witch to squeal a little. She whooped as the hippogriff zoomed away, but Snape jumped into the air and followed from a distance just in case she got into trouble, his great wings beating silently in tandem with the hippogriff's.

"It's not _**fair!"**_ Harry blurted, his face reddening. "I've lost my parents, a life I should have had, and she's a little witch perfect with her apprenticeship and people aren't even seeing the _**truth!**_ "

"What truth, Harry?"

"That Snape is a total _**bastard!**_ " Harry yelled. "Just because he's putting on some show of actually caring doesn't mean it's real! She's just like Dudley Do No Wrong!"

Remus frowned.

The hippogriff went sailing over, Hermione laughing with excitement as a raven, a parliament of excited owls, and Professor Snape trailed along with her. The sounds of their wingbeats seemed like distant thunder.

Remus looked up, an expression of wistfulness chasing across his face.

"Harry, there are some people who open the path to redemption. It is often the only way someone who cannot find forgiveness alone realises it is even possible. Professor Snape does not pretend to care for his apprentice. He actually does, and we have all failed him until her. No one, not even you, Harry has the right to judge him. Your father. Me. Peter. Sirius. We all judged him, and we were _wrong_."

Harry frowned and glared into the darkening sky.

"He's still a git."

Hedwig gave him a scratchy screech and launched into the air, disappearing into the dusk.

"You better not be following _her,_ " he yelled at the owl.

* * *

Hermione curried Buckbeak and dried him off to keep him from getting a chill. She gave him a ferret and a fond pat before giving him a little water to wash it down.

Buckbeak opened his mouth and playfully bowed his head from side to side.

Hermione mirrored him carefully, making sure not to forget her bowing manners.

She attached his blanket to his back so he wouldn't get a chill after the hard work of flying, she returned to her master's side. He looked at her silently, nodding as she approached.

"Thank you, Master, that was exhilarating!" She watched as a tendril of magic smacked a mosquito senseless on her behalf. "Wicked!"

Snape snorted. "Have you finished your assignments for tonight?"

Hermione nodded. "Yes, sir."

He grunted in approval. "Bed early tonight then," he said. "Tomorrow, we have to be up early to prepare the laboratory for the Forgetfulness Potion lessons for the first years. I expect nothing but idiocy and multiple explosions."

Hermione's eyes widened.

Snape said nothing more, but as he turned to leave, she followed, knowing that if her master said going to bed early was a good idea, she wasn't going to argue.

As usual, long after flight situations came to pass, Archon snuggled up to her for bed, and she was asleep quickly, a content smile on her face.

* * *

Hermione woke to a spider in her face, Archon's legs drumming on her forehead to wake her up. She snatched him off her face and cuddled him, determined to stay in her warm nest.

The arachnid tolerated for a little bit, but then chittered at her.

"Okay, okay," Hermione complained, throwing off her covers and crawling out of Seraphina's coils.

The basilisk nosed her gently, following her and pushing her along with her snout until she yawned her way into the bathroom and walked directly into the shower. Anissa seemed to enjoy the steaming sensation despite being given an impromptu secondary bath by the rinse from Hermione's hair.

Archon was already gone by the time she got out of the shower, having done his duty as a living alarm clock that morning. She brushed her teeth and dressed sleepily, but she made sure everyone that was around had been fed before they "ate something they shouldn't have."

Ezrah happily accepted both the meaty early breakfast and belly rubs as well as her checking his teeth to make sure nothing was stuck in between them. She brushed his fur, clipped his nails so they weren't too long, and unlatched the balcony door so Seraphina could sun herself silly and watch the "guarded room" while Ezrah went for a walk.

Well, she supposed he technically _was_ walking…

If you counted her clinging to his back like a burr as he ran at breakneck speed across the green frolicking as he savoured the wind in his fur and ears, jowls flopping around his teeth as he resembled the photos of dogs in the wind with their heads stuck out of the automobile windows—

Ezrah always seemed sad he couldn't follow her around and guard _her_ , but he seemed to realise that guarding "the room" with Seraphina was important too.

Hermione still wasn't sure what was under the room that Dumbledore thought was so important, but he hadn't said to stop watching that particular room, and Hogwarts had provided such a nice living quarters around it, that they were hardly complaining about not having to be in the damp dungeons all the time.

Seraphina had her sunning balcony that she could share with Ezrah, and Hermione kept a small garden there for her brewing projects. Snape had supervised her growing project, approving of her plant choices and recommending others that would be better suited for her micro garden.

All and all, Hermione was happy with where her life had taken her.

She was happy her parents were safe.

She was happy her master looked out for her safety and that his intimidating glares kept the disapproving glares from her. All the animals respected him, and the centaur did too— that was something she had a feeling was rare between the centaur and humans in general.

Her studies were challenging, but her learning was exciting. Everything was so new in the magical world.

As she led Ezrah back to the guarded room before their chambers, he flopped down on the floor and touched his nose to the enchanted stone that filled his bowl with fresh cold water. He lapped up the water until it was gone and panted happily, tail wagging.

"Good dog," she said, patting his side before going back into the chambers.

The third floor wing where they were was off limits to students, but every so often, some idiot would try to find out _why_. Ezrah was a noisy reminder of why rules were meant to be followed, and even if Ezrah wasn't there, Seraphina was an even bigger reason to stay away.

Snape was waiting for her inside with tea and a light breakfast to tide them over until the Great Hall opened, and she sat down gratefully.

"Thank you, Master."

"Puppy walked and no one eaten?"

"Yes, Master."

"Excellent, well, at least for the first part."

Hermione gasped, and then she saw the twitch of a smile on her master's lips. "Oh. You got me again."

Snape chuckled. "As you say."

They ate in companionable silence, and Hermione scurried off to brush her teeth afterwards before cleaning up the dishes.

A house-elf appeared, scowling at her. She snapped her fingers, taking all the dishes and disappearing with a _**poof**_.

Hermione blinked, unsure of what to do.

"They like to feel useful, Apprentice. There are things they see as their domain, and if you try to do their jobs for them, they take it as insulting their love for what they do or their effectiveness."

"Oh!" Hermione said. "It's just— I've never seen a house-elf before."

"They normally try to stay out of sight," he said. "Unless someone steps on their domain and tries to do the dishes."

Hermione looked sheepish. "Okay."

"Your viper is in the window catching unwary prey from the flower box," Severus said. "The insect population quakes in fear."

Hermione smiled. "She caught a fat rat the other week. I'm not sure where it had been, but I'm sure that kept her stomach going for a week."

"Students drop all sorts of tidbits a rodent would adore. It is, however, why we don't allow rodent familiars. One, the lifespan is notoriously short, and two— owls like to feast on them along with just about any other predator. All we need is some young student in tears because their familiar got predated on by a school owl."

"I'm surprised they allow toads," Hermione said. "They aren't exactly at the top of the food chain."

Severus shrugged. "The headmaster can approve exceptions, such as with yours, but it is often rare to form familiar bonds with the lower lifespan creatures. Anything without that bond is just a glorified pet. Toads simply have an old history with witches and wizards, much like cats, but they are more uncommon. The original toads chosen for familiars had longer lifespans. Today, it seems hit or miss upon the species a child chooses. I rather doubt that Mr Longbottom was truly chosen by his toad and suspect that his grandmother simply picked out something to satisfy the requirement."

Hermione hrmed. "Does a familiar gain a longer lifespan?"

"Sometimes, if the familiar is a magical one. A true familiar bond shares both magic and lifeforce. It is the most intimate bond in that it touches upon the soul. It is why choosing a familiar of one of the short-lived races can be asking for trouble. Having one's soul shattered even if it does eventually heal, is a lot to ask of any person, let alone a young student. Some say that when a familiar dies, its soul transfers to another so the person may find them again, and then and only then does the soul truly heal. The entire process seems quite traumatic, either way, but it is why there are ancient laws that protect a wizard or witch's bond with their familiar. It is also why many of the more powerful witches and wizards believe to have a familiar is to be weak, as the familiar is seen as a weakness or a liability."

Hermione frowned. "I don't think Ezrah and Seraphina are weak at all. Anissa is the smallest, and she's pretty resilient. And no one messes with Archon."

Severus chuckled. "Probably not, but you hardly have typical familiars. The basilisk is an XXXXX creature that is considered uncontrollable and dangerous to everyone."

Hermione wrinkled her nose.

"Much like the renowned Newt Scamander, there are occasional exceptions to the rules of magical beasts as well as pure misunderstandings of something rare and more intelligent than most would prefer to believe."

Severus sniffed, setting down his teacup after draining it of every drop. "Come, let's go set up the classroom for the dunderheads, then you can go to your Transfiguration class with Minerva after breakfast."

Hermione bounced on her heels excitedly. "Yes, Master!"

* * *

"She _killed_ my rat!" Ron hissed furiously. "One of her bloody familiars _ate_ my Scabbers!"

Harry frowned even harder. "She gets away with everything. Just like Snape.

"What are you two talking about?" Seamus asked irritatedly.

"One of the freak's familiars ate Ron's rat."

"I dunno," Neville said, sounding dubious. "She pretty much keeps to herself."

"But her familiars just wander all around the castle as they please."

"Scabbers just wanders around too, bro," Fred and George said together. "Always has. Not sure how that's any different."

"The difference is I know that my Scabbers is dead because of _**her!"**_ Ron blurted, tiny bits of chicken erupting from his open mouth to spray over his disgusted housemates.

The Great Hall suddenly got deathly quiet as the Slytherins all glowered darkly at the Gryffindor table, their narrowed eyes glaring at them with undisguised menace.

The ceiling came alive with lightning from outside as a storm beat down on the castle. The room lit up brilliantly, people covering their eyes with the brightness, as the silent open wings of one snowy owl zeroed in on her unwary, hapless prey.

_**SCREEEEK!** _

The shrieking cry was abruptly cut off as Harry's owl, Hedwig, landed with talons outstretched on a fat rat digging himself into the bowl of crisps further down the table, his pudgy body wet from the storm raging outside, and dripping rainwater all over the table. The almost distinctive layer of cheese powder and crumbs had been washed off, for the most part, leaving only tiny patches behind in a few odd places.

There was a deathly hush as the children stared at the dead rat only to have it convulse and twist and jerk into the shape of a short, rather overweight man with remarkably rodent-like teeth and ears and beady eyes that suddenly came alive with a shockingly shrill scream that rivalled that of any terrified young witch.

The man let out multiple screams and yells as he beat away at Hedwig, punching her in the face, resulting in the annoyed owl ripping open a wound on his hand with her beak.

Children screamed.

Poor Hedwig got thrown headlong into the hearth, and Harry went diving after her.

The rat-man snatched a wand off a nearby firstie and aimed it at himself—

" _ **Expelliarmus!"**_

" _ **Petrificus Totalus!"**_

" _ **Incarcerous!"**_

" _ **Stupefy!"**_

" _ **Langlock!"**_

" _ **Locomotor Wibbly!"**_

A barrage of spells went flying toward the rat-man, and he nimbly dodged them with an eerie, preternatural speed as he grabbed the very first person he could, his arm wrapping tightly around the girl's neck and yanking her off her feet, choking her.

He smiled nastily, knowing the teachers wouldn't dare fire off a spell at him, not while he had a hostage. He jabbed his wand into her neck.

As he smirked and gloated, slowly backing from the room to make his escape, one sneaky little saw-scaled viper slithered out from Hermione's hair , and struck at the man, biting deep into the fleshy part of his hand.

The serpent dropped to the ground and disappeared, but the man's hand was still bleeding profusely as his blood haemorrhaged and refused to clot.

Hermione's eyes were fully black now, no trace of amber to be found as her pupils narrowed into vertical slits. Her wings burst through her ropes and one of the pinions speared the man in the gut and flung him away from her, her fear and her desperation concentrating into action.

The man tumbled backwards bleeding from multiple places as a hundred different spells hit him straight to the head and chest.

" _ **Minerva, summon the Aurors,"**_ Dumbledore's _Sonorus_ -enhanced voice rang out above all the noise. " _ **All students go back to your common rooms immediately and stay there until instructed otherwise! Severus, please tend to your apprentice. Pomona, please arrange for the house elves to relocate breakfast to the students in their respective common rooms. Hagrid, if you would head to the gates to escort the Aurors when they arrive?"**_

The terrified children fled the Great Hall in a mass exodus. Snape engulfed his badly shaken apprentice into his robes, pulling her tightly against himself as she trembled, the shock of her ordeal catching up to her.

Remus stared down at the familiar body laying on the floor in front of him, his clenched knuckles white with fury. " _Wormtail,"_ he hissed. " _Betrayer. Murderer."_

His eyes bled into an inhuman yellow, his fingertips bleeding as claws emerged from them. Teeth bulged from his mouth, twisting into fangs as they jerked from his gums. He screamed in rage, filled with inhuman murder.

_**Thump!** _

One three headed dog sat down on him and Wormtail both, tail wagging.

"Good dog," Severus said, patting him on the side.

"Browl."

"Flitwick, Poppy, would you please take Mr Pettigrew to the infirmary and make sure he doesn't die before the Aurors get here?" Dumbledore sighed. "I will make sure Remus is suitably contained before they arrive." He pointed his wand at the werewolf, and the beast that had been one seriously brassed-off Remus Lupin collapsed limply to the floor with a whine and thud as his head hit the floor.

* * *

_**Peter Pettigrew, Notorious Murderer of Twelve Muggles, Found at Hogwarts Masquerading as a Rat Familiar to Ronald Weasley** _

_Once upon a time, twelve years ago, Sirius Black was found guilty of murdering his best mate, Peter Pettigrew, along with twelve innocent Muggles on the eve of the deaths of the Potter family at the wand of You-Know-Who. He claimed until his very last scream that he was innocent._

_Back then, all that remained of Peter Pettigrew had been a single finger, and Dark magic had been assumed the cause just as Dark magic was used to initiate the explosion that killed the Muggles._

_But last night, Peter Pettigrew was found alive (barely) after he was attacked by a school owl owned by none other than the Boy-Who-Lived, one Harry Potter._

_The owl's attack caused the man to shift into his human form in order to survive, but when he attempted to take Master Snape's third-year apprentice hostage, her familiar gave him a venomous bite._

_He was subsequently hexed by many members of the Hogwarts teaching staff and succumbed to the venom._

_After hours of treatment by the Hogwarts mediwitch, Mr Pettigrew was moved into a high security holding cell within the Department of Magical Law Enforcement where he awaits a long overdue trial._

_In light of these events, the wizard convicted of betraying the Potters, and murdering Pettigrew as well as the twelve Muggles, Sirius Black may finally be exonerated of the murders committed over a decade ago, and the Dementors patrolling Hogwarts may finally be permitted to return to their usual posts in Azkaban._

* * *

"Master?"

"Hn?"

"I—"

Snape turned to look at his apprentice, one eyebrow lifting.

"If it's not a full moon, why was Professor Lupin able to change?"

"Intense emotions can lower a human's mental barriers that allow the wolf within to seize the advantage— something that normally the full moon is required for," Snape said quietly. "Whatever emotion Lupin holds for Pettigrew, it was latched on to his anger— and that anger feeds the beast. But the beast is an unnatural thing, Apprentice. It is not like Ezrah or Seraphina. It is a strange combination of things that become utterly unnatural when joined. Somewhere in between wolf and man, mindless and intelligent."

"But— why is he still a werewolf?" Hermione asked. "The beast, I mean."

Snape sighed. "That is something that only Lupin himself can answer. He and his inner rage."

"Maybe there is something to inner peace," Hermione said slowly. "Father once told me that meditation helped him get through the rigours of dental school. If there was a draught of peace that could work to separate memories from strong emotion specific to the wolf, would it keep the wolf from fighting the man to seize control? Maybe with night-blooming herbs that make it a nocturnal potion so it cannot destroy normal emotional response during the day. Erm. So they can't blame bad behaviour on the potion."

"And which herbs would you use to promote positivity, calm, and purification?"

"Erm," Hermione twitched a little as she replied. "Chamomile, sweet basil, rosemary, and white sage. And cacao bean extract."

"And how would you make it so the aconite is less antagonistic?"

"If we only harvested it during the night after a full moon or during— that could make it more attuned to the nocturnal cycle."

"Good," he replied. "What is the most well-known problem of the curse?"

"Painful transformations."

"Why are they painful?"

Hermione frowned. "Muscle cramping or tearing. The change is primarily physical in nature."

"What herbs could be used to counter that?"

"Valerian… vervain might be even better, though. Perhaps both, combined with cinnamon and cayenne?"

"They are complementary, however, too much of one or the other could have the opposite effect that you are desiring. Now, even if you tone down the tearing and physical change, it will still happen, and there is no way to knock out a werewolf during the change. What then could you use to dull the pain?"

"Willowbark, perhaps— but that could be bad if there is bleeding. Erm—" Hermione drummed her fingers. "Night-blooming cereus could work if the valerian doesn't. Perhaps combined with ginseng and coconut milk."

Snape nodded in approval. "I want you to do research on each plant's properties and what might reverse the effects, along with any possible positive or negative interactions between them. A singular healing plant alone is often safe, but in potions they are never alone, and something otherwise innocuous can turn fatal rather quickly."

"Yes, Master," Hermione said.

"You should never combine plants without knowing how to counter any untoward reactions they might cause, otherwise the potion explodes, and that is just a waste of everyone's time, as well as the ingredients themselves And if you have two ingredients that require the exact opposite counter, you run the risk of not being able to stop a reaction as well as making a reaction even worse."

"Like when Neville made Seamus talk backwards for an entire week?"

"Much like that, yes."

"Hundreds have tried to devise a cure for lycanthropy, Apprentice. Some of the most brilliant minds have applied themselves to the task, and all of them have given up since Marcus Belby developed the wolfsbane potion. That was deemed to be "good enough." Many believe there is no redemption to be had for the werewolf, no matter _how_ great the human witch or wizard might be. Most people see only the potential for murder. Think hard about what would have likely happened had Lupin's transformation occurred in front of children. If anyone of them had been hurt? Families would have bayed for his blood. Lupin would either be dead now or else in Azkaban. It would not matter to them what good he might have done. What miracles he may have performed. Murder is murder. A child's murder is worse than anything else to a society where each and every magical child is considered priceless."

"Then how did the war even get started?" Hermione asked, her mind attempting to reconcile the idea of priceless magical children with the widespread scorn and relentless persecution of Muggleborns.

"Prejudice makes children fit into categories," Snape said. "It was the very same thing that separated the magical from Muggle so very long ago. People like to think they are not like other people, so they find reasons for being better. To be better requires someone else to be worse and not your equal. And war— is contradictory, Apprentice. The reasons to fight seem so real to either side, but blindness prevails on both."

Hermione looked down in her lap.

Seraphina nosed her, tongue flicking, and Hermione wrapped her arms around her massive head and snuggled into the serpent. "I don't think people make a lot of sense."

Snape sighed. "No, they often do not. Emotions make decisions complicated. To say not to make complicated decisions when you're angry is best, but emotion drives us to make sudden often very unwise and even outright stupid decisions."

"I'm glad I have you then," Hermione said sullenly.

Severus arched a brow. "How so?"

"If I am about to make a really stupid decision, you'd not hesitate to tell me about it."

Anissa hissed, pegging her ear with her snout in a token strike of protest.

Hermione snuggled the smaller serpent. "I know you wouldn't either."

Snape looked at her with a slightly raised eyebrow. "I suppose your logic is— sound."

Hermione smiled at him.

"Master?"

"Hn?"

"Do you think Archon is okay? I don't think he likes werewolves much."

"I'm sure he's fine," Snape said. "Arachnids are survivalists."

Hermione nodded. "I suppose if I were faced with a werewolf alone, I'd choose to be somewhere else too."

Suddenly an irate werewolf slammed into the magical barrier, and about a hundred wards snapped in place and flung the werewolf backwards.

Lupin snarled and foamed, the beast crazed to bite and ravage. He lunged again, trying to get at a human, any human.

Hermione stood suddenly, her eyes blazing, meeting the werewolf's with inner fire and sudden-found bravery. "You are never getting out of that room if you can't cut that out, behave, and SIT!" she yelled, sounding like she was saying the last word as a snarling bark. Her magic flared around her like a wreath of tentacles and seemed to whip about.

Severus' eyes widened as the werewolf promptly sat on his rump and hung his head with a whine, exposing his neck, and tucking his tail between his legs in unmistakeable submission.

The werewolf's body shuddered and seemed to pull in on itself until the trembling, almost anorexic human body of Remus Lupin was all that remained.

Snape threw a quilt through the wards to cover up Lupin's nudity.

"Well, I guess you can teach an old wolf new tricks."

Hermione stood with a slight wobble, her eyes covered by Anissa's dutiful censoring.

* * *

"Where have you been! Snape said you were sick, but you weren't in the infirmary. I know he was lying!" Harry cried as he assaulted Lupin with a verbal barrage.

"Harry, please, calm down," Remus said. "Professor Snape was telling the truth."

"But you weren't in the infirmary! I was there! I looked for you! Everyone is saying Sirius Black wasn't the murderer they thought he was! That someone named Peter Pettigrew actually murdered all those people! That he's my godfather and I can _**finally**_ get away from the Dursleys!"

"Harry!"

Harry was beet red in the face and was barely able to stop to take a breath. "What can you tell me about Sirius Black? Was he cool? Was he a good friend? Will I like him? Will he like me? He's _**got**_ to be better than the Dursleys!"

"Mr Potter," Snape's voice broke through Harry's non-stop rambling. "If you do not stop to breathe, you will not survive to hear the answers to your incessant questions."

"Snape!" Harry hissed.

"You will call me Professor or sir, Mr Potter," Snape said, his black eyes narrowing. "Anything else would be— disrespectful."

"You don't treat _**anyone**_ with respect!" Harry blurted.

" _ **You're**_ a fucking _**WANKER!**_ " Anissa hissed furiously. "If anyone _**deserves**_ to be disrespected, it's you, you vile misbegotten cretinous flapdoodle!" *

Harry's eyes widened in shock as he stared at Hermione.

Hermione's eyes were very wide as Snape raised an eyebrow at her. Hermione's fingers clamped firmly over Anissa's snout as she gave her master a sheepish and apologetic look.

"Come, Apprentice," Snape said coldly. "We have an appointment with Madam Pomfrey about certain healing potions that some people would be greatly… distressed not to have."

"Yes, Master," Hermione said, taking a quick gait next to Snape's long strides as they disappeared around the corner.

"He's _**such**_ a bastard!" Harry groaned.

"Harry, you may not like the man, but that is no reason to disrespect him when he is a teacher in this school. If you cannot do this, then you are also disrespecting me and every other teacher in this school as well as the Headmaster who hired him."

Harry stared at the nearby wall, stubbornly crossing his arms across his chest, clearly having chosen to ignore Remus in favour of stewing in absolute hatred of his potions professor.

Remus sighed. "I will see you in class, Harry." He walked down the hall towards the Defence classroom leaving Harry to consider his words in silence.

* * *

Hermione sniffled as she ran into their shared quarters, threw her books and bag onto her writing desk, and blew into her room, throwing herself into the bed. She pulled the duvet over herself and hugged her pillow, wanting nothing more to do with the world outside.

The world outside was rude.

And mean.

And deliberately cruel to anyone and anything remotely differing from their narrow-minded idea of what constituted "normal".

As she tried not to cry but only marginally succeeded, one plump arachnid crawled up the duvet, wedged himself under it, and slipped into the dark space underneath.

Hermione wrapped her arms around Archon and sniffled into his body, her tears wetting his fur. He wriggled his legs spastically as she squeezed him half to death, but her tears dried up quickly as she cuddled her friend.

"I really _hate_ people, sometimes," Hermione confessed, snuggling the arachnid's fluffy body.

The spider tenderly tapped his legs against her face, and she snuggled into his body a little more, an exhausted, emotionally drained sleep claiming her at last.

As she slept away, Anissa hissed to Seraphina as the basilisk slithered in from her evening meal. "That vazey cumberworld needs a swift bite to the face!"

The larger serpent tongue-flicked. "What did that mop-headed wankstain do to our Hermione?"

Anissa wobbled her head like a cobra. "Got his little groupies to invite her over like they wanted to be friends then made fun of her! She wouldn't let me strike them! I so wanted to strike them!"

Seraphina lowered her head. "She's not that kind of person, despite what they might think."

Anissa seemed to shrug. "I just wish she'd let me bite them. They'd stop!"

"They'd be _dead_."

"Same difference."

Seraphina hissed a chuckle. "Perhaps, but it would make Hermione sad, and none of us wants that for her."

"Maybe if I nip his ankle in passing?"

"Still not good, probably."

The saw-scaled viper sighed. "I suppose I can restrain myself."

The two serpents slithered into Hermione's room and made sure their mistress was comfortable.

Hermione, however, was fast asleep, Archon nestled in her arms and serving as her favourite stress-relieving snuggle buddy. The serpents curled around their mistress lovingly as Hermione let out a contented sigh.

* * *

Severus was convinced that anything with the name or genetics of Potter was better off wiped off the fair face of Creation due to their penchant for rampant stupidity.

One would _think_ that after brassing off a giant Cerberus and a basilisk and being reprimanded by Dumbledore himself that Harry Wanker Potter would have finally gotten a clue and stopped harassing Lupin and his apprentice, but it seemed the boy had nothing better to do than obsess over his own real or imagined woes.

He'd already fucked up Remus' Wolfsbane Potion once.

Almost been murdered by Hermione's familiars for taking out his temper on Hermione—

And now?

He'd set his stupid gaggle of groupie follow-the-Chosen-One sycophants on making Hermione feel even more isolated from her supposed peers.

Even Lupin seemed thoroughly frustrated with the boy, and _that_ was saying something. The werewolf seemed utterly conflicted between sharing information about the boy's father and bursting the boy's massively swollen head after he'd mistakenly shared James Potter's journal of vindictive prankage thinking it would give the boy some well-desired insight into his father.

Worse, now that Black was considered pardoned thanks to Pettigrew being found guilty of murdering the Muggles, the boy was now obsessed with meeting up with his once-feared godfather just to get away from the Dursleys— something Dumbledore didn't want him to do due to some spell he insisted had to keep Potter under their abusive thumbs.

However, was being an abused child a valid excuse for being a selfish and entitled little fuckwit now that he was aware of being the "Chosen One?"

Potter had no clue that it was only by the grace of Hermione's basic good nature that kept him from being viciously murdered by every familiar in the witch's arsenal.

It was a basic good nature that kept not only her entourage of creatures from outright defending her to the death, but it also kept Snape himself from destroying Potter with a bunch of legal entanglements that would have him neutered by magic until he was starting to go grey.

Then there was Dumbledore, who was utterly convinced that the Potter brat was crucial for the end of the war.

Snape had his doubts, unless being a reckless idiot was somehow going to trip up the war—

The boy was already halfway to getting himself infected with lycanthropy, and his best idiot (er, mate) was hardly a good influence on him.

While some of Gryffindor seemed to think the boy was one crumpet short of teatime, there were far too many that threw themselves into kowtowing to his Chosen One status.

Idiots, the lot of them.

Yet—

Hermione seemed in good spirits in the morning, and that was far better than he'd hoped for the previous evening. Of course, Dumbledore insisted that if Gryffindor wanted to make friends with the witch, they should be allowed to.

That had led to her leaving the Great Hall in tears.

Gryffindor was nothing more than a seething bunch of hot-headed brainless swine with very few exceptions.

Worse, the idiot red-headed twins were trying to "cheer people up" with their pranks, and the so-called pranks in question were downright inappropriate and left Hermione feeling even more ostracised and ridiculed.

No, the Weasley twins were a bloody menace, despite the fact that they didn't "intend" for their pranks to hurt anyone. Or so they claimed.

He'd seen the long trail of miserable puking students, people breaking out in pustulant boils, and other such disgusting things— all courtesy of the budding nightmare that was WWW.

If anything, it was teaching Hermione that she couldn't trust anyone. She refused any food that didn't come from a trusted source, and she kept taking all of her meals either with him or with the centaur— never from a fellow student or even an unknown house elf.

She'd learned quickly that a certain house elf wanted to please— but not _her_.

That little fool, Dobby, had slipped her (supposedly unknowingly) a laxative-laced chocolate, and Hermione now wouldn't trust gifts from anyone that didn't get scanned thoroughly for shenanigans—

Even then, she threw most of everything directly into the fireplace.

So, instead of letting her dwell on all the things she couldn't trust, Snape took her out to Hogsmeade on a supply run and let her detour to Honeydukes to pick out her own selection of tasty sweets. She enjoyed a butterbeer along with a modest lunch of fish and chips at the Three Broomsticks, and they picked up the rest of their supplies at Slug and Jiggers before leisurely walking back to Hogwarts.

Dumbledore always gave them such a put-out, disapproving look upon their return.

As if giving the young witch positive experiences was somehow undermining some grand master plan.

Severus scowled.

Albus was already quite miffed that his Slytherin servant had been severed from him by the bond of magic shared between master and apprentice— perhaps far more than that. Magic seemed to think the bond between himself and Hermione was more important than any previous bond he had sworn to— or any other master, whether dead or alive.

And magic was seemingly far more protective of this _particular_ bond than the damning brand of a rising Dark Lord or the invisible yoke of servitude tying a desperate wizard to a more powerful one.

But the truth was—

Something had been slowly crumbling the bond between Albus Dumbledore and Severus Snape over much of the last decade. Blackouts for Severus had become a fairly common occurrence since taking the Mark, but Albus had become more concerned that Snape couldn't remember where he had been and Albus couldn't pull the information from his mind.

It had been a mystery, and Albus Dumbledore only wanted his own self-made mysteries, not things that he himself could not fathom.

And yet, Severus usually hated mysteries, but he found himself more accepting of magic's strange gifts and protections. For the first time in his life, magic seemed to be proactively protecting both himself and his apprentice, making him believe that perhaps he was actually doing the right thing—

Even if he _did_ sometimes feel like he was muddling through it all with blinders on, a box over his head, and maybe his eyes wrapped with one of Hermione's serpentine familiars.

But— he was also content.

He loved the fact that Albus was turning himself inside out with frustration. Served the old goat right for his infernal meddling— making so many people think he was able to move mountains when really the man was just a talented wizard with high ambitions and a massive ego.

He had enough ambition to steamroll the whole of Slytherin— and _that_ was a rather disturbing revelation.

All that ambition and talent, however, wasn't fooling magic.

Magic was watching, and it was clearly no longer willing to stand idly by and let people tromp all over it, using it for their own ends with no respect for its presence or the magnitude of its gift.

Part of him wanted to be angry that magic took so long to do something, but he realised that was unfair of him. Magic shouldn't have to metaphorically bitchslap witches and wizards to get them to behave in a respectful manner.

And he was a teacher—

He knew exactly what happened when a magical child was told they shouldn't do something.

Explosion after explosion ad nauseum—

Students were just walking explosions waiting to happen.

_**KABOOOOOOOM!** _

A cauldron exploded all over the back of the potions classroom, and a cacophony of frantic bleating followed as a tribe of tiny Nigerian dwarf goat kids stampeded into the hallway and fled— after tripping up the Headmaster and trampling all over his body, getting tangled up in his beard, chewing on his hat, and then bouncing away.

Dumbledore's only comment was a pained sound that resembled a sort of wheezy bleat.

Snape sighed. Well, that just proved that idiocy always found a way as he knew none of the ingredients he had assigned could possibly be combined to create Polymorph: Goat.

He looked to see which cauldron left the most explosive residue behind and scowled even harder.

Of _course_ it was bloody Potter.

* * *

It wasn't any surprise, really, that Snape would invariably blame _him_ for the latest explosion in the potions classroom.

So what if he had hooves and curly horns that wouldn't go away? That didn't mean it was _his_ fault the ruddy cauldron exploded! Everyone _knew_ that Snape really had it out for him and insisted that anything that went wrong was somehow all his fault, damn it.

Worse, the headmaster had already cancelled his meeting with Sirius Black, having stated Harry was under disciplinary action.

It wasn't _fair_.

Snape had it out for him!

None of the others had to scrub cauldrons without magic!

Why couldn't he have detention with Hagrid?

He glowered at the little bushy-haired menace that was sitting at her seat next to where Snape had been before he was summoned to the hall to talk to the Headmaster.

"I don't think it will work that way," Hermione fussed. "If you add the agrimony before the geranium fangs, the base will be too acidic and erode them."

"You should probably look it up again," a voice admonished quietly. "I think you perhaps forgot something."

Hermione tilted her head in thought and flipped back through her notes.

Harry listened to the bloody bint talk to herself for another few minutes as his face grew redder and his scrubbing of the cauldron became more and more harsh.

Hermione let out an impressive yawn. "We should get to bed now," she said. "It's been a really long day."

Hermione put her books away. "I know, I know we can't leave yet. Do you think my Master will be angry if I go take a nap?"

"I think that would mess up your sleep schedule," a voice chided.

"But, I should already be in bed," Hermione complained.

"Would you _**please**_ just shut the hell up," Harry blurted, tired of listening to her yammer on.

Hermione jolted, startled. "Sorry."

"Don't apologise to that sodding wanker," the voice said. "He's never once apologised to _**you**_."

Hermione frowned, combing her hand through her hair. "It's fine."

"It's not fine! You shouldn't have to take that codswallop from anyone!"

"If you are going to insult me, then just do it to my bloody face!" Harry blurted, throwing his scouring pad down with a splat.

Hermione didn't move, but a rustling movement seemed to release a viper from her hair. The viper landed on the desk with a thump and moved toward Harry, moving across Snape's desk with surprising speed.

"You," the viper said, "are a gnashgab gobermouch that needs to pull his head out of his arse and stop complaining how woeful his life is when all the hardship he makes for himself in school is of his own making. All you do is piss and moan about how unfair your life is. How horrible Snape is. But you don't know piss about anything. You let idiots tell you how things are, never questioning it, but when someone better than you tells you anything, all you do is question and doubt and refuse to actually learn anything. You insult Hermione because you think she gets more than she deserves, but she has done nothing to deserve your petty, childish ire. So what if you've been abused and had a shitty childhood? That doesn't give you the right to be a fuckwit wankstain that has nothing better to do than envy what someone else has and look for ways to prove it instead of seeing the truth! Or, better yet, make your own damn life better by doing something, anything, good for someone other than yourself."

The viper's body rubbed against itself making a crackling hissing-like sound.

"But, by all means. Continue to be a rampaging klazomaniac who has nothing better to do than shout about how unfair everything is while you sit on your bleeding arse fuming over life's unfairities." The viper glowered at Harry. "You. Are. A. Fucking. Wanker."

Suddenly, a pale hand scooped up the saw-scaled viper and lifted her back to Hermione. Snape's pale, sombre face twisted into a sneer as he regarded Harry. "That will be five more points from Gryffindor for not doing your assigned task, Potter."

The viper slithered around Hermione's neck like a choker.

"Apprentice, you may leave to prepare for bed. It seems I will be here a bit longer than I had intended."

"Yes, Master," Hermione said, gathering her books.

"If you have any difficulties on your way to quarters, come right back to me."

"Yes, Master." Hermione smiled at him, stifling a yawn. "I will."

Snape grunted, waving her off.

As Hermione left the room, Harry shot daggers into her back with his gaze.

* * *

"He is a foal of destiny," Firenze said as he hung fish over the smoking rack near the fire. "It does not often help when trying to find one's way in life when one does not truly know what that destiny is."

"He has more legs than sense," Bane said. "Running straight for danger before thinking what might be waiting. Even our youngest foals know better."

"Sadly, herd-brother, what Harry Potter has known in his short life has been cruelty and prejudice, and despite what he might think, he has learned it all too well even in his attempts to escape it.

"Foxglove, does he bother you often?"

Hermione winced and shrugged. "It's more that when we do run into each other he makes me feel like I'm a horrible person."

Firenze rubbed Hermione's shoulders. "Sometimes, we do not always see the value in things we do not understand. We centaur have this problem seeing humans as anything of value because they have pushed us to the very brink— pockets of land too dangerous for them to live. It often takes a great feat of something significant to change that mentality. Proof that there is good in those we have forgotten could be."

Firenze looked to Bane who nodded.

"You may have thought that sharing the mending moss with us was something that required no thought, but there are actually few who would assist a centaur, even if we were to ask," Bane said. "My mate— she injured her leg near Hogsmeade after running from some acromantula. Not one human from the village answered her cries or attempted to see if she needed help. It made me very bitter against humans— until you came along."

Hermione's brow wrinkled. "Consideration shouldn't be so rare. My parents always taught me to think of others."

"To be taught is only one part, herd-sister," Bane said. "To live it another."

Hermione nodded. "I guess that makes sense. My aunt is a dentist with horrible teeth."

The centaur looked at her strangely.

Hermione tilted her head. "Someone who takes care of other people's teeth has rotten teeth."

"Oh," Firenze said. "Good thing centaur teeth continuously get replaced. That is one thing we don't have to worry about."

"That's neat!" Hermione enthused.

Hermione held out the bow she had been wrapping in sinew. "Is this right?"

"The wrap is very tight. That is a very good start. Don't allow your hide glue to get too thick, and use your finger to soothe the glue and sinew together as you go."

Hermione nodded and did as directed, carefully wrapping the hardwood with the sinew.

"The hunter is often nothing without their tools such as the bow, and while the stallions tend to do most of the hunting amongst our people, the mares will defend the camp and the foals. To leave foalhood behind, one must not only be of a mature age but also be able to provide and protect their people," Bane said.

Hermione smiled. "That makes a lot of sense."

"The centaur are a sensible people— most times," Bane said. "I will admit, I am not always so sensible when it comes to humans."

"Blackthorn was the only one who accepted and adopted our ways in over a decade," Firenze said. "Even the Headmaster did not deem this worthy of our treaty. Little does he know that the real reason the treaty was affirmed was because of Blackthorn's work to help our herd. All the while, the Headmaster allows the half-giant to flood our forest with his uncontrollable beasts such as the Acromantulas."

"We do not, however, harm foals, regardless of species," Bane said.

Hermione continued to work on wrapping her bow. "I am glad to have met you."

Bane's expression softened. "We are glad to have you amongst us, Foxglove."

* * *

Albus frowned as he watched a gaggle of students helping Snape's apprentice give the Cerberus a thorough washing, their giggles and water fights enticing the giant squid to come and play.

There were Slytherin, Hufflepuff, and Ravenclaw all pitching in to scrub and play, and Snape stood out there in the sun (the SUN!) and oversaw the antics. Even Minerva was out there, dodging the water, but otherwise making a pest of herself with Severus.

The Gryffindor were, wisely in Albus' opinion, absent.

The other houses were just believing that the old prejudices weren't worth keeping— not when they could slide down a basilisk's coils and sit on top a giant three-headed hound.

Even more disturbing is that the children seemed to realise that a Cerberus outside the place he guarded was okay to play with, but none of them had attempted to go on the third floor since.

None but the Gryffindor—

None but a sneaking Harry Potter and friends, the absolute last people Albus wanted playing chicken with a Cerberus. Even the Weasley twins couldn't seem to stop themselves from trying to figure out what was so special that they were forbidden to go there.

One would think that a few bites to the rump would be enough reason to stay away.

But no, James Potter's son was convinced there was something very important to _proving_ that Snape was an evil, horrible man.

Harry Potter, however, was having the same problem Albus was having in trying to break the magical bond between Snape and his apprentice so that Snape would remember his oath to Dumbledore.

Magic was retaliating.

Magic was defending Snape and his apprentice.

It was dealing back a sort of magical karma that couldn't be denied anymore.

The entire Gryffindor tower had been confined to the loo for an entire weekend after the WWW laxative prank candies had found their way back to their creators in the most obvious way possible when a Quidditch win party went pear-shaped.

Things were not going to plan.

People he used to count on to be there and act a certain way weren't.

Harry Potter was his worst great enemy, and he had sprouted goat horns and hooves in his accidental magic-fueled potion explosion— okay, well, he'd turned half the class into pygmy goats and he had kept the horns and hooves— and made himself into some pseudo-satyr.

Albus wasn't sure how to keep Harry Potter from offing himself before he could bring an end to the Dark Lord. He had to survive to do it, and he was doing his damndest to stay in trouble rather than out of it.

Harry was, much to Dumbledore's great chagrin, just like his father.

He was talented when inspired, but his inspirations tended to focus on the things he obsessed over: Quidditch and the downfall of Snape—

And the torment of Snape's apprentice, whom he apparently saw as fair game for someone who alternated from being a "victim" of Snape's facade or someone who deserved whatever Snape did, seemed to go far beyond sinister glares and pranks. There was some deep-rooted animosity between Harry and Apprentice Granger, and no manner of personal danger, even a rampaging basilisk, three-headed hound, or otherwise seemed to be able to instil any sort of temper to his crusade.

And, unknown to Potter junior, the boy's actions had only added to Albus' frustration that every time he had tried to make Apprentice Granger suffer, magic had bound the master and apprentice even closer together, so much so that Albus couldn't even read their thoughts without sprouting a goat tail or sporting hooves or horns for a week.

His one attempt to speak with Apprentice Granger without Snape being there had ended with Albus desperately craving the taste of fresh grass and eating one of his own library book pages.

No, magic was _not_ happy with Dumbledore attempting to subvert its will. Not one bit.

But Dumbledore was certain that having Granger on Harry's side would keep him alive, but that obviously wasn't going to happen as long as she was apprenticed to Snape and with Harry being absolutely convinced that she was just as evil as Snape.

As Dumbledore watched an impromptu picnic break out by the lakeshore, he wondered if there was any saving the plan he had followed for so long.

A small niggling in his gut wondered if his plan would even be needed now that Quirrell-Tom was sealed away in a magical prison that made Azkaban look downright obsolete.

If that were true, then was Trelawney's prophecy even valid anymore?

Had it ever been so?

Peter had been a traitor all along.

Sirius hadn't been guilty of murder.

Time after time, supposed truths were being rewritten.

Dumbledore rubbed the area between his eyes.

Whatever was he going to _do?_

* * *

"Can I chew on him?"

"No."

"Aw." Ezrah rolled over and exposed his belly for more rubbing.

"Can _I_ chew on him?"

"Seraphina!"

"What? It would solve the problem."

"And create a number of other problems!"

"No fun," Anissa said, tongue flicking to tickle Hermione's ear.

"All of you are _horrible_ ," Hermione said, shaking her head as she flopped against Seraphina's coils.

"You love us."

"That's immaterial."

"Not to us," her familiars agreed.

"Rawk," Ciaran commented, refusing to even join the conversation with usefulness.

Seraphina eyed the raven. "Can I at least eat the bird? He is pretty useless."

Ciaran seemed to scowl at the basilisk. He sharpened his beak on a nearby stone while watching her with a malevolent eye.

The sudden appearance of a large arachnid with a scroll neatly silked to his back interrupted their conversation.

"What's this? Hi, Archon!"

Hermione cuddled her most favourite spider-friend before unfastening the scroll from his back.

Archon crawled up onto her shoulder and snuggled into her warm neck as she opened the scroll.

* * *

 **To:** _Apprentice Granger_

**From:** _Amelia Bones, FHBOY_

_Dear Apprentice Granger,_

_It is with great appreciation for your outstanding work with your master, Severus Snape, that I am offering you a place with the Department of Mysteries as an Apprentice Unspeakable._

_You would be able to start as soon as you accept the offer, and we would assist you in moving all of your belongings to the DoM._

_Your responsibilities would not change, as you would still be working with Master Snape as a condition of your employ with us._

_Your studies would be supplemented with your basic training as an Unspeakable, which will include lessons in subjects such as complex warding, scrying, unravelling, and mending magic as well as other strictly regulated spells as your education progresses._

_Both you and your master would be provided with fully-furnished shared lodging, including facilities for your various familiars._

_Should any of your studies require training in a field outside of your master's concentration, there will be other masters available to fill in the gaps so you can reach N.E.W.T. level with the best possible scores._

_A generous weekly stipend will be provided to you, and all uniforms and assorted gear will be paid for by the DoM._

_Your master has already agreed to the contract on the condition that you accept, but you are not required to accept for fear of disappointing him._

_Should you decide to decline, we reserve the right to offer this position again at a future date._

_If you accept, please sign this parchment on the bottom line, and it will promptly find its way back to us._

_Sincerely,_

_Amelia Bones, FHBOY of the Department of Mysteries_

_P.S. All of your familiars will be provided the appropriate amount of additional outdoor space and meals and/or hunting privileges as befits their rather unique size and dietary requirements._

_P.P.S. A reusable portkey will be authorised so that you may visit your centaur friends and allies as often as you wish._

* * *

Hermione's eyes widened. "An offer of an apprenticeship with the Unspeakables?! What do you think, Archon?"

The spider purred on her shoulder.

"Wouldn't it be wonderful to be somewhere that didn't give me dirty looks every day? And Master already approved—"

Ciaran rawked, fluffing his feathers.

"I think you should be writing your name on that parchment right now," Anissa said decisively.

Seraphina thumped her head with her chin. "Indeed."

Ezrah dropped a gryphon feather quill and an inkpot on her lap.

Hermione laughed, dipping the quill into the inkpot and signing her name on the parchment. "Okay, okay, I get the message. I _do_ know a good thing when I read it, you know."

The moment her signature was finished, it glowed golden, the scroll rolled itself up, turned itself into an origami phoenix and immediately flew off at top speed.

Hermione cuddled Archon happily. "We're going to be Unspeakables, Archon! Isn't it _wonderful?_ "

The spider said nothing, but he gave off a warm arachnid-purr as he allowed the young witch to snuggle him senseless.

* * *

**End of Chapter One (nngghhh!)**

* * *

**A/N:** This first chapter really got away from me… back to work tomorrow, so no writing for a while.

Please thank Dragon and the Rose for staying up past her pumpkin hour to beat me senseless, er, I mean beta this massive first chapter.

Much love to you.

Thank you for all your warm reviews and well wishes during this time of Covid-insanity-sheltering-tp hoarding. (Really, I still can't get one bottle of rubbing alcohol… I just want one! LOL)

I wish you all continued safety and good health.

** **vile misbegotten cretinous flapdoodle** came from Mersheeple, who I promised her long hour researching 19th century insults would not be for naught


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